The Wolf You Feed
by gillyflower34
Summary: This is the sequel to Under Your Spell. Rowan and Daryl are back, travelling to the place where she was born. Enid and Carl are on the road with them, along with some familar and some new animal companions. Story starts out non-canon but eventually includes events from recent seasons of the show. Rated M for violence and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter One

 **** Under Your Spell had been my most popular story so to date, so I decided I really wanted to make a sequel. This story is picking up about a month or two after the end of the last. Rowan decided she needed to see her home one last time before she got too far along in her pregnancy. Since there was a chance they might find a lot of useful supplies there, Daryl agreed to take her. Carl and Enid are traveling with them, along with some familiar animal friends and some new ones.**

 **I don't want to neglect my other WIPs, so updates may not be as fast as they were for Under Your Spell. As always read, enjoy and review. I own nothing from the Walking Dead or the novel The Plains of Passage, sections of which served as my inspiration for this story. Some plot points will be similar, but the words and original characters are all mine. ****

Tank and Morgan came dashing out of the woods, covered in mud and muck from whatever fresh mess they had managed to entangled themselves in this time. Rolling on top of dead walkers to cover themselves in the scent was a favorite pastime for both animals. Rowan felt the soft rush of air on the side of her neck as Daryl breathed an audible sigh. The dogs constantly getting dirty and smelling terrible wouldn't bother him so much if Rowan didn't give in to Tank's whining and let them both crowd inside their tiny tent every night.

"Maybe we can find a creek to swim in before we stop for the night," Rowan suggested. Daryl held the reigns in one hand but he used the other to pull her closer to him. His hand dipped under the loose fabric of her shirt, the rough pads of his fingers grazing over her stomach. He could only tell the difference in her body when she was naked. A small hard lump just above the silky hair between her legs. But even with her clothes on, he knew what was there. His baby, growing strong and healthy inside her.

She was used to the movements of the horse by now. The way the animal's back rose and fell as it walked, pressing their bodies closer together and then a little further apart. The insides of Daryl's strong thighs touching the curve of her hips. They walked some of the time, to give the horses a break. And they also took turns riding. But her favorite was riding double with Daryl behind her. She felt secure in his arms.

Carl and Enid were riding double on the other horse. Comet. They named the animal for how fast he could run. Comet was a young stallion, light tan in color. His mane and tail were even lighter in color than the rest of him. On his back, Enid rode behind Carl, his beat up sheriff's hat on her head to keep the sun off her face. She had her arms around his waist, her long legs dangling down behind his, which were resting in the stirrups. Her chin was resting on his shoulder. Rowan smiled. She knew the two of them liked to whisper to each other while they rode.

The horses showed no signs of getting overly tired yet. But as Rowan glanced over at the other couple and the large saddlebags attached to either side of their horse, she felt a smidge of guilt for riding double on horses that were already carrying so much for them. She leaned forward, smoothing down the mane of her horse and giving her a friendly pat on the neck, the stone in her wedding ring catching the sunlight and sending out millions of tiny sparkles into the air.

"Good girl Molly," she told the animal, who returned her affections with a high pitched whinny. She leaned back into Daryl's chest. "Do you think we ought to get down and walk a while?"

"Soon," he told her. He didn't want to tire the horses out either, but they were sturdy animals. He was letting Molly walk at a pace she was comfortable with. She would be alright to carry them a while longer before she started to get tired. And he liked riding double with Rowan. He could smell her hair and rub his hands over her legs and stomach.

The first few days it was him and not Molly that needed a break from riding double. Having a hard-on inside his jeans and being jostled around by a horse for hours was about as uncomfortable as it sounded like it might be. He had almost rubbed his business raw before he figured out he better try and keep control of what he was thinking about while they were riding together. This was easier planned than accomplished, especially with her firm backside pressed right up on his dick, rubbing against it everytime the horse took a step.

Her shirts and sleeping attire were still loose and baggy. But since they were doing so much riding, Rowan had taken to wearing either a fitted pair of jeans or a thick pair of fringed buckskin pants, also fitted. The sight of her, all wrapped up in clothes that actually hugged the curves of her hips and ass had really been doing a number on him. She had been trying to gain a little weight since she found out she was pregnant, and he swore every extra bite of food she ate went straight to her damn tits. He would have never guessed that a pregnant woman's body would look so appealing to him, and honestly it made him feel almost bad. Like he was some kind of pervert. Not bad enough to stop looking though. She was his wife after all. He could look at her all her liked.

Done with their exploring for the time being, Tank and Morgan trotted along on either side of the large black horse that Rowan and Daryl were riding. Then Morgan decided he wanted to be on the other side, near Tank. instead of walking around behind Molly, he darted across in front of her, making the horse balk and almost stumble. Daryl gritted his teeth, trying not to get angry at the giant dog that was still technically just a very big puppy.

"I'm sorry we couldn't bring Lily," Rowan said, wrapping one of her slim hands over the tops of his as they relaxed over the reigns again. Daryl felt the anger rush out of him as quickly as it had come. _Rowan feeds the good wolf._ He smiled, wondering how she always seemed to know just what he was thinking. He had spent so much time training Lily. She was his favorite hunting partner and he had been excited to take her out on the road with them. But the day before they were ready to leave, Lily had gone into heat. He supposed he ought to be glad it didn't happen out on the road, but it was still disapointing not to have her along.

Rowan's father agreed to watch Lily and keep her away from the other dogs until her heat was over. With one condition. That they take Morgan with them. The big white dog drove the man crazy. So now instead of being on the road with his well trained hunting dog, they were on the road with an obnoxious puppy that seemed to find some new way to be annoying about every five seconds.

"Listen," Carl said, waking Enid from the state of half sleep she had been in resting against his back. Her head popped up and she adjusted the hat on her head. "I think I hear water."

Rowan cocked her head to one side. She didn't hear anything at first, but once she concentrated on the sounds around them, she heard it as well. The quiet rushing noise of moving water. She could smell it too, just the subtle change in the air around them. Cooler and more moist than it had been a few minutes before.

"This way," Daryl called to Carl, nodding his head to the left. He started off the dirt covered road they had been walking on and into the woods. They found the sorce of the noise quickly. A waterfall that was rushing down from higher above, splashing into a small lagoon that led off into a smaller creek. With Rick and the others, he had driven through Virginia, heading North up from Georgia to get to DC. But they had stuck to main highways and roads as much as they could. Daryl didn't have much time to get a feel for the type of land they were passing through. Now he had plenty.

The first thing he realized was that they had been smart to bring the horses instead of riding bikes. Besides the fact that they were much quieter, the terrain here was no much more uneven than where he was from in Georgia. The horses could climb a rocky hill with packs on their backs, where taking the motorcycles up would have been a total nightmare. The plant life in the forest was slightly different, and even the types of squirrels varied from the ones he was used to. Despite the unfamiliar terrain, Daryl liked being out in the woods again. He felt like he could really breathe out here. Not that he minded living in Alexandria, but the small yards and big houses felt constricting.

"Think we should camp up top?," Carl asked. Daryl nodded. If walkers came at them, it would be much easier to deflect them off the top of the cliff than it would be to fight them with their backs against a wall. He swung down from his horse and then kept his hands on Rowan's lower back as she did the same. They walked from there, taking their time finding a way up to the top that was a gradual enough slope for the horses to climb.

The small group had packed and unpacked enough times in the last week that they could set up and tear down camp without a lot of talking. Everyone knew my now what their jobs were. Daryl got the tents popped up, while Rowan and Enid unpacked the horses. Carl took the dogs with him while he collected firewood. Then he dug out a small firepit and got a fire going. The girls got water from the small river that led to the waterfall and suspended it over the fire to boil.

They had travelling food. But there was no way to carry enough to last them the entire trip. So they had been living mostly off the land as they rode. When they broke camp that morning, Enid had spotted a flock of wild turkeys when she got up to pee. They had been lucky enough to snag two of them, so Daryl didn't need to go hunting after they set up camp. Instead he helped Carl spit the birds over the fire. They left them to roast while they washed up in the creek.

The girls bathed upstream from the boys, but they kept each other in sight for safety reasons. Rowan coaxed her dogs in, hoping some of the stink from whatever they had rolled in earlier in the day would rinse off. The horses needed no such encoragement. Freed from their bags and saddles, they drank from the moving water and rolled around in the shallows, scratching their backs and cooling themselves off.

Molly was prancing around, nipping at the dogs and at Comet. Tossing her wavy black mane and snorting. Rowan knew what her horse needed. A good run. She headed out of the river, pushing the water off her body with her hands and ringing out her hair. She pulled on a pair of underwear and one of the long loose tshirts that she wore around camp and slept in. Then she whistled for Molly.

The horse came rushing over and Rowan grabbed her mane, swinging herself up onto to horses bare back. Then she kicked her heels in and leaned forward, giving Molly the signal to run. The horse didn't need to be told twice. She took off at a full gallop, staying close to the edge of the shallow river at first, but then veering away once the woods opened up and there were not as many large trees in the way. Rowan clung to the horse, her thighs holding tight and her hands gripping the coarse black hair of her mane. She could feel her own hair, whipping in the wind and flying out behind her. When they finally slowed down, Tank was able to catch up with them. His tounge was hanging out the side of his mouth and he was panting.

"God damn it all," Daryl cursed. He hated, just hated when Rowan took off on the horse like that. He had told her what felt like about a million times not to do it. One of these days she was going to end up riding right into a herd of walkers. Carl was shaking his head and Enid was laughing. Morgan was still running around, snapping at the dragon flies that were buzzing around the river like he had no idea anything was even going on.

To Daryl's relief, Rowan came trotting back a few long minutes later. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide with excitement. With her long black hair, the same color as the black horse she was riding, she looked for a moment like some sort of mythical creature. A centaur. Half woman and half horse.

She used the pressure of her legs to guide the horse, leading it over until they were almost on top of Daryl. The way Rowan was looking at him made him realize he was standing there naked and he reached down to grab a pair of shorts out of his pack and pull them on.

"Come on," she said, extending her hand down to him, "you've got to see this." Before he knew what he was doing, Daryl found himself caught up in her enthusiasm for whatever she wanted to show him. He swung himself up onto the back of the horse, gripping her waist. Rowan signalled the horse to go, but a little slower this time. Daryl was not a fan of riding at full speed without a saddle, which made her smile since she knew he rode his motorcycle much faster and without a helmet.

When they neared the edge of the drop off, Rowan slowed the horse to a stop and swung her leg over Molly's head so she could drop to her feet. Once Daryl was down, she took his hand and pulled him towards the edge. Down in a grassy valley below, there was a whole herd of horses. Some of the older animals might have been domestic once, but now they were wild again.

"Look," Rowan said, pointing a finger, "there's even little baby horses." Daryl looked where she was pointing, seeing a few small horses mixed in with the herd. There was a small black and white patchy one that was easy to pick out from the rest due to it's distinct coloring. The horses were beautiful. Watching them gave Daryl a tingle down in the pit of his stomach. Happiness tingled with a weird guilt. _The outbreak made this possible._ Animals were taking back over, resuming their natural behaviors. This land was their's again. Just like Rowan was his. Without the outbreak, he never would have met her.

As Daryl slipped his arm around Rowan's waist, he felt the wind shift. The breeze carried Molly's scent down to the herd. Several of the horses popped their heads up, suddenly alert when a moment before they had been grazing peacefully on the grass. One large grey and white dappled horse seemed more interested than the rest. He reared up, snorting and trying to make himself look even bigger than he was.

"I bet that one's the lead stallion," Daryl said. His words made Rowan glance nervously at Molly, who seemed much more interested in the herd of horses below than she had been a few moments before. Her eyes were wide and she was flicking her tail, her ears flattened back against her head. Rowan approached the horse, running her hands over her soft hair to calm her. Then she wrapped her arms around the horses neck and hugged her. She felt Molly's leg come up, dragging her in closer as the horse leaned the head into her, hugging the woman back.

Tank started barking and then Rowan heard Daryl adding his voice to the racket. _That's right! Go on and git! Ain't stealin' my horse!_ While watching the horses had felt almost magical, Rowan was glad to see them go after that big male had been looking at Molly with such intensity. Not only did they need Molly, to ride on and carry their things, Molly was her friend. She didn't want to lose her to a herd.


	2. Chapter 2

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter Two

The sun was dipping low in the sky, turning the sky above them into a kaleidoscope of different colors. A firey half circle was dipping behind the tree line. Orange streaked out across the blue of the sky, turning the fluffy white clouds into dark shadows in the sky.

Since they were camping near the water, the soft song of bullfrogs filled the air. Tank and Morgan had slopped up the leftover turkey meat and were each enjoying knawing the last bits of meat off the turkey legs. Rowan listened carefully to the two dogs, ready to take the bones away before they had a chance to crack them apart and make themselves sick swallowing the pieces.

The horses had been given plenty of time to graze earlier. Once they had their fill of grass Enid and Rowan had taken time brushing them and checking them over to make sure they weren't getting saddle sore or overworked. Comet slept standing up with his knees locked, while Molly often laid down at night. At the moment, she was curled up like a dog, near Comet's feet. Daryl had never seen a horse do that before, but he was used to the sight by now.

Hearing a very distinct crunching noise, Rowan bolted up out of Daryl's lap and grabbed for Morgan. She snatched the turkey bones away from him before he could run off with them. Tank dropped his when she told him to drop his bone, his ears back as a little puppy whine rose in his throat. She patted him on the head, but she still took the bone away. To make sure Morgan didn't go digging them out of whatever bush she threw them in, Rowan walked a little further away and tossed them over the edge of the drop off.

She walked back, calling the dogs to her by patting her hand against the skin of her thigh. They both moved quickly to follow her, and she led them over near the horses. Kneelind down, she stroked them until they looked sleepy and relaxed. The hope was that they might be warm and comfy sleeping near the horses and not try to crowd into the small tent she shared with Daryl. It was a long shot, but she figured there was a chance it might work.

Rowan didn't mind sleeping with the dogs. Before she wound up in Alexandria, she had been alone on the road with Enid for months. The girls had slept every night cuddled in between Lily and Tank, trusting the dogs to wake them if they needed to run. But Daryl did not like the dogs sleeping in their tent. He said they stunk, especially Morgan. And the tent wasn't big enough. Plus he wanted them outside, listening and keeping watch over the campsite. Not snoring dog breath in his face.

Rowan walked back towards the dying fire, the leather bottoms of her slippers scuffing against the grass and dirt. Carl and Enid had already retired to their tent for the night, and as Rowan walked by, she could hear murmurs and the quiet shuffling noises of clothes being removed. She reminded herself again to keep a look out for the herbs she needed to make morning tea for the girl. The tea to help prevent pregnancy. The bright yellow flowers were easy to spot if you were looking out for them. They still had about two weeks worth stored away in a little pouch, but it wouldn't hurt to find some more while they were on the road. Most of the places around Alexandria had been picked pretty clean of anything useful or edible.

Daryl was leaning back against one of the leather packs, his legs stretched out towards the fire. His hair was hanging in his face again. As Rowan got closer, she could tell he was peeking up at her through his bangs, chewing on the corner of his thumb.

"Keep eating your hands and you won't be hungry for anything else," she teased, leaning down to flip a lock of his hair into his face. His hand snaked out, catching her by one slim wrist. She yanked against his grasp with a very half hearted effort, making it clear that she really had no interest in getting away. Instead of pulling her back down into his lap, Daryl used his other hand to push off and let her pull him up to his feet.

Rowan was still wearing the ribbed white tank she had pulled on after their wash in the river. She had not bothered to change, and just tied her beat up fringed shawl around her waist to cover up the rest of her body. Her nipples were slightly darker in color now, another side effect of having a baby growing inside her. She knew the outline of each one was clearly visible through the fabric of her shirt, especially since the rest of her skin was so pale. Rowan hadn't thought much of it, until she noticed that Daryl's eyes were fixated on her chest. She was fairly sure he had not even looked at his food once during their meal. Of course once she knew he was looking, her nipples got rock hard and she could feel herself blushing red hot under her freckles. She had pulled her hair forward after that, using it like a blanket to hide under.

As soon as he was steady on his feet, Daryl slid one arm around her waist. He pulled her close and slid his other hand up under her shirt, reaching right for the parts of her that he had been thinking about touching all day. His palm ghosted over her ribs, careful not to tickle. As his fingers grazed the underside of her breasts, he felt her hand clamp down over his wrist. Not pushing him away, just holding his hand still.

"Remember they're tender," she whispered. A low groan escaped from between his lips. He didn't mind being gentle with her, in fact he preferred it now that she was pregnant. But sometimes he felt like a starving man that was about to sit down to a meal and only be able to smell it. He followed up the groan with a whiny puppy noise. Rowan giggled a little in response. "I can't help it," she reminded him.

Releasing her grip on his wrist, she put her hand over his and guided it up and over her breast. He reminded himself again not to squeeze and gently cupped the soft globe in his hand instead. Her hands slid under the back of his shirt, and she traced up the line of one long scar with the tip of her finger. By now she knew his Daryl's body as well as she knew her own, maybe even better now that hers felt like it was constantly changing.

The scars on his back were like a map that she could see even when her eyes were closed. The most prominent one started down near the right side of his hip and led all the way up between his shoulder blades. That was the one she was tracing with her finger tip, her other hand sliding lower, down into the waistband of his pants where she could grab a handful of his backside.

This time he was the one that caught her by the wrist, pulling her hand back out of his pants and suggesting they take their activities inside the tent. Rowan nodded and followed him, climbing inside the small green tent first since he was holding the zippered flap open for her. She walked awkwardly, since the tent was too low to stand up in. Sitting down on their sleeping bag, Rowan fumbled around for the small battery powered lantern she hoped Daryl had gotten out and put next to the bags while he was unpacking. The light was fading fast and it was even darker inside the tent. Her hand finally bumped into something hard and plastic feeling. The lantern. She grabbed it up and turned it on, adjusting the light so it was on the lowest setting.

Daryl climbed in and turned to zip the door of the tent up behind him. The stupid zipper got caught up and he had to fumble with it. But the time he got the door secure and turned around, Rowan was lying back on their sleeping bag wearing nothing but the skin she was born in. Her hair was down, covering one of her breasts completely. The dark pink tip of the other one was peeking out between her dark tresses.

Only when she was like this, completely naked, could he see the change in her body. Her stomach wasn't round as much as it just didn't look as flat. He knew if he ran his hand over the lower part, right about the dark patch of hair between her legs, he would be able to feel it there. Just a tiny hard lump that seemed much too small to have a human being growing inside.

He crawled across the floor of the tent, bending over her to press his lips against the center of the bump. Rowan grasped his shirt, yanking him up so he could put his lips on hers instead of on her stomach. Their hands fumbled, both getting in each other's way as Daryl tried to take his own clothes off and Rowan tried to help him. In her haste, she popped one of the buttons on his shirt off. She giggled, feeling around for the button and placing it carefully next to the lantern so she could sew it back on for him later.

"Sorry," she said. This was pretty much Daryl's last good shirt, so she had been trying her best to behave and not ruin it. He only smiled and tossed the balled up shirt into the corner of the tent. The last thing he had on his mind was some stupid shirt. He could always get another shirt. Daryl lay down next to her and raised his hips up so he could push his pants down. Then he kicked them the rest of the way off.

Seizing the opportunity of having Daryl on his back, Rowan rolled on top of him. She brought her knees up, straddling his waist and sitting directly on his erection. Then she was lifting up, her hands between her legs to guide his hard length inside her. When she sunk all the way down she arched her back and a low moan drifted out from between her lips. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the hard muscles of his chest. Daryl's hands came to rest on her hips, holding on and gently guiding her movements.

Just when they were really starting to move, Daryl heard the whining start up outside the tent. Tank. The biggest cockblock in the history of mankind. The noise had no effect on Rowan, who continued rocking her hips as she bit down on her lower lip. But Daryl knew that shortly after the whining started, the damn dog would start scratching at the thin material of the tent. He was going to rip the damn tent wide open one of these days. Daryl grabbed for the rolled up sleeping bag he was using for a pillow and hurled it towards the door flaps of the tent.

"KNOCK IT OFF TANK," he hollered.

"Should have... just let... him in first," Rowan said, her voice coming out in panting breaths between her soft moans.

"I don't like him watching us," Daryl complained. Rowan rocked her hips forward, then he felt the flood of warmth as the muscles inside her fluttered and closed in around him. She was giggling again. Giggling as her orgasm washed over her. She had to admit, Tank did have a staring problem. But he was just a dog, its not like he knew what he was looking at. Daryl cracked her up.

She collapsed on Daryl's chest, holding on and shifting her hips to help him as he rolled over and got on top of her. Feeling the pressure of his hand on the underside of her thigh, she raised her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. He lowered his head, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. She moaned, her hand twisting into his hair. He pulled back, her nipple sliding out from between his lips with a pop as the suction broke. Then he used his hands to take his weight off her body as he started pushing into her. He moved hard and fast. Rowan just held onto his shoulders and let his body move against hers, watching the aura around his head change colors. Right before he came it she knew it would splinter with little red lightning bolts. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

He came inside her with a growl in his throat, flopping down on top of her. Daryl quickly rolled off, still scared to put too much weight on her. She assured him many times that if it didn't hurt the baby it wouldn't hurt her, but he still felt like he might squash the little critter.

"She's not a critter," Rowan mumbled through a sleepy yawn as she reached over him to grab at the other sleeping bag they were using as a pillow. Daryl cocked his head, trying to remember if he had made the critter comment out loud. He didn't think he had. Since the night they took that peyote. That's when it started. It wasn't something either if them could control or do on command. But sometimes he just found Rowan's thoughts bumping around inside his head. Daryl figured the same thing must happen to her, because she often answered his questions before he asked them. It seemed to happen the most when they were both relaxed.

Just as he was thinking he might be able to lie down and have a dog free night of sleep, the whining started up outside the tent. Daryl leaned over and unzipped the flaps, leaving them hanging open. Tank charged in, leaning over Daryl so he could lick Rowan's face. Once he started trying to sniff lower than that, Daryl shoved the dog off and told him to lie down.

Tank turned his body around a few times and then settled down to sleep. Daryl expected Morgan to come charging in behind the other dog, but he never came. The thought of going to check on him briefly crossed Daryl's mind. Then he decided the fewer dogs in his tent the better. Bedsides, Morgan was probably just happy sleeping with the horses.

 **** I went back and forth on this chapter, because I felt like it was too early in the story to have a love scene. It's hard to make it a slow burn when the characters are already married, lol. Welcome to all followers both new and old and I hope you all enjoy the story. ****


	3. Chapter 3

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 3

Rowan drifted off into sleep feeling safe and contented. Her head rested on Daryl's chest and one long leg was thrown over his hip. The sound of Tank's heavy breathing filled the tent, getting louder as the bullfrogs outside got quieter. For the first time in a few nights, Rowan did not fall asleep thinking about her dream.

The dream came anyway. The same as it had every night since a week before they left Alexandria. It was a horrible dream, the kind where she knew she was asleep but felt powerless to wake herself. She would normally consider such a bad dream as a message to change her plans. Stay home safe behind the high walls and forget about this trip. But something about this dream was different.

Rowan saw danger in the dream. Heard the crying voices of so many hurt and starving children. Daryl was there, hanging from his wrists by a long rope that led up into the sky like Jack's beanstalk. When she tried to get to him, she felt her feet sinking into the ground. The grass turning to quicksand under her. When she lifted her feet up they were dripping in blood. But instead of feeling the urge she normally would to run away from danger. Get away. Stay away. She felt exactly the opposite of that.

The voices of the little children were what killed her. She had to get to them. The pull inside her was so strong. More than she could bear. During the dream it was so strong it felt like it might rip her apart. She knew now that the pull is what had put the idea of going home one last time into her head in the first place. Even if she wanted to, there was no way she would be able to turn back now. Even if Daryl, Enid and Carl went back and she was left out here alone. She would still have to keep going. If she didn't, she was afraid she might have to suffer through this terrifying dream every night for the rest of her life.

Rowan was at the part in her dream where Daryl appeared to her in the clearing, dangling from the rope. She looked down for the weapons she knew should be in her hands. The small knife her father gave her, or the slingshot she carried while they were on the road. But her hands were empty. Her fingers dripping with blood. Taking a step forward, her bare foot was swallowed by the grass. Her body felt so heavy and hard to move, like she was walking under water. As if someone on the other end of the rope was reeling in a fish, Daryl started to rise up into the air. Lifting so high she would never get him back.

Normally this was the part where Rowan would wake up, startled and groping for Daryl to make sure he was beside her. But this time the dream changed. Suddenly the rope was on fire. The bushes around her burst into flames. She could feel the heat from the fire, singing the hair on her arms. The smoke was burning her throat and stinging her eyes. Instead of the screams of children, this time she heard the frightened screams of a horse. Not just any horse. Molly. It was a horrible noise, like the horse was being ripped apart by walkers. This was followed by the sound of Morgan barking. Barks like the kind that usually only came out of Tank. Loud vicious warning barks. Like the skinny white dog was about to tear someone's head off.

Rowan bolted up, grabbing for Daryl to make sure he was still sleeping next to her. Her hand closed down over the hard muscle of his arm. Even in the pitch black of the tent, she knew it was him. She rubbed at her face, confused for a moment. Trying to catch her breath. Confused because she was still hearing the same sounds she had been hearing in her dream. Coming from outside the tent. Morgan was barking and she could hear Comet's high pitched whinny.

"Walkers!," Rowan screamed. It was the first thing that came to mind. The animals must have been caught in a herd. She could hear Tank growling. Outside the flaps of the tent, holding his ground. Guarding her. Daryl woke with his arms flopping and flinging into the air. He caught Rowan in the face with one hard forearm in his panic. She saw little white dots float in front of her eyes for a moment, and she pressed her hand to the side of her head.

"MY BOW," he was hollering, scrambling about naked in the dark. Cursing himself for falling asleep naked. For not banking the fire outside so they would have some light. For letting his guard down. How could he be so stupid?

"To the left of the door inside the tent," Rowan yelled. She didn't know how she knew where the bow was. The words just popped into her head. Daryl felt his hand close down over his crossbow. He knew the weapon well enough that he could string and load it without needing to see what he was doing.

"Stay here," he told Rowan as he shoved Tank out of the way and exited the tent. Tank darted in, smelling to make sure Rowan was still inside the tent. Then he resumed his defensive postion outside. Good dog, Daryl thought. Not going to complain about your nasty dog breath for at least a week.

Outside there was at least a little light from the moon for Daryl to be able to make out Enid and Carl standing a few feet away. Enid had her rifle up and Carl was pointing his handgun. But neither of them were shooting.

"Walkers, where are they," Daryl hissed, moving closer to the two silohuetted figures.

"It wasn't walkers," Enid told him, "it was a pack of horses." Her voice was calm, but Daryl heard it crack in her throat when she spoke again. She was crying. And Enid never cried. "They took Molly."

Rowan felt around inside the tent for her clothes. She felt the fringe of her shawl and snatched it up, wrapping it around her like she would wrap up in a towel after a shower. Then she felt for her knife. Where had she left the stupid thing. Probably out by the fire pit. She was mad at herself for being stupid and careless. They hadn't seen a walker in days. Not since the day after they left Alexandria. They should have been watching out for them.

Shoving Tank, Rowan climbed out of the tent. Daryl had told her to stay inside, but of course there was no way she was going to listen to that. The night was dark, but she could see the auras of three people over near Carl and Enid's tent. They were tinged with more blue than usual and harder to see in the dark, but Rowan still recognized the distinct color patterns of her three traveling companions. Auras were like fingerprints, no two were ever exactly alike.

She heard a rustling noise coming from behind her tent. Then a low whine. Morgan. Tank must have heard him too, because once Rowan had ahold of his collar the big dog took off in the direction of the noise. She knew they found Morgan when her feet almost came down on his tail. He whined again, louder this time. Rowan knelt down, feeling carefully with her hands. His body felt solid, but when she got to his head, she felt something wet. He was bleeding. Rowan needed to get him closer to the fire pit so she could check his injuries.

In her panic, Rowan got to her feet and attempted to pick the dog up herself. Since he weighed more than her all she succeded in doing was moving him a few inches. She changed tactics and tried to help Morgan get onto his own feet. Thankfully the dog managed to get into a standing postition. He was whining, but he was walking. She led him slowly back around to the front of the tent.

Daryl crawled back into the tent, feeling for the lantern. He found it and clicked it on, turing it all the way to the brightest setting. Finding their sleeping place empty, he panicked. Daryl flung back out of the tent, still ass naked, looking for Rowan. He managed to almost bowl her over in his haste.

Grabbing Rowan to keep her from falling backwards from the empact of his heavier body, Daryl hugged her tight against his chest. She pulled back and took the lantern from his hands.

"Morgan's hurt," she said. The dog had made it around in front of their tent, but then collapsed again. Rowan knelt down next to him, feeling him over more carefully now that she could see. He whined when she touched his ribs. But they didn't feel broken, only bruised. The cut on his head was worse, but nothing that would kill him. It would just need to be cleaned and bandaged.

Carl and Enid were building the fire back up, tossing in the rest of the wood they had collected earlier. Rowan was happy to see they were both safe. She was confused about something though. There were no dead walkers lying around. She was sure the camp had been attacked. Rowan rose up to her feet and took a better look around. That was when she noticed it. Comet was still tied down over near the big tree they used to secure him. But Molly was gone.

"Those horses we saw earlier," Enid said before Rowan could even ask, "they came and took Molly." Rowan's hand rose up, reaching for her crystal necklace. Her hand hit her chest, coming up empty. Her necklace must have come off while she was thrashing around during her nightmare. It was probably in the tent. But reaching for it and not feeling it there gave her a sense of foreboding. Like someone had come in from the cold and put their freezing hands on her warm body. A shiver ripped through her.

"Molly!," Rowan hollered. She whistled for the horse. Then she ran over to where the horses had been sleeping. The ground was trampled and there were horse tracks everywhere. "Molly! Molly!" She yelled for the horse, getting louder and whistling.

Once Daryl knew Rowan was safe, he had ducked back into the tent to try and get dressed. He had managed to get his pants on before he heard Rowan yelling. When he got out of the tent she was already close to hysterics, yelling for her horse. She looked ready to charge off into the woods by herself. And she was getting louder. Too loud. The kind of loud that might attract more than a herd of horses to their location.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Daryl told her. He pulled Rowan into his chest and slipped her necklace back over her head. When he was trying to get dressed, he had found it tangled up in his pile of discarded clothes. It felt weird and somehow wrong, the necklace being somewhere other than her neck. She almost never took it off, not even to bathe.

"We've got to find Molly," Rowan sobbed into his chest. Comet was the friskier of the two horses. So they always tied him down at night. Molly stayed close. And the idea that walkers might come and her horse would be tied up and unable to run away scared Rowan. So she left her loose at night. Now she realized what a terrible mistake she had made. "It's all my fault," Rowan said, her breath hitching in gasps, "I should have tied her down. Why didn't I tie her down?"

"Ssshh," Daryl rubbed his hand over her hair, "it's not yer fault."

"Molly," Rowan sobbed. She had only felt this worried for one of her animals the time Derek had tied a rope on Lily to force Rowan to go with him. But even then Rowan had been pretty sure the man wasn't going hurt her dog as long as she did as he said. She might never see Molly again.

"We will get her back," Daryl assured her. Carl and Enid had the fire going now, feeding branches and sticks to the small blaze. He could see the hopeful look on Rowan's face when she tilted her head back to look at him. Unshed tears were sparkling in her eyes. "We will get Molly back," he told her again, feeling more confident. Daryl could track a solitary man through thick woods after a rainstorm. He was sure he could track a herd of horses and figure out where they went.


	4. Chapter 4

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 4

Morgan whined. A low quiet noise that came out through his pink nose as his tail beat a steady rhythm against the ground. Rowan was being as gentle as she could as she checked the dog's bandage. Now that the sun was up and there was more light she could see a lot better than she had been able to the night before. The dog was going to be fine. But Morgan needed rest. And that presented a problem. They needed to leave. To track the herd of wild horses that took Molly before the animals got too far or the rain that was threatening came and washed their tracks away.

"I can stay here with the dogs," Enid offered. The idea had been dismissed the first time she offered. But no one had come up with a better plan yet. Now that the sun was up, they were losing time arguing about it. Daryl glanced at Rowan again. She stared back, narrowing her eyes and giving him the look he knew meant she was going to be stubborn.

"Molly will come to me if I call her," Rowan reminded him again. She didn't want to start an argument with Daryl on top of everything else that was going on. But there was no way she was staying here with Enid and the dogs. She would go crazy staying here. She had to look for Molly.

Daryl took a deep breath in and blew the air out through his nose, snorting like a dragon. He glanced at Carl. The boy shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Daryl. Rowan and Enid were also staring at him. Waiting for him to decide what was about to happen. Daryl felt weighted down with the unfamiliar pressure. It started the first day they were on the road. The small group had to make a decision about which way to go to cross a river. After they talked over the possibilites, Carl, Enid and Rowan just stood there staring at him. It had taken Daryl a moment before he even realized what was going on. They were wating for him to tell them what to do.

All Daryl's life he had someone around to tell him what to do. His parents. His brother. Later on it was Rick. Hershel and Carol when Rick was taking his farming break. Even Beth. When Daryl was alone with her after the prison fell she had been the one that decided where they were going and what they were doing. At his home in Alexandria, Rowan's father ran the roost. Not that the man was bossy or demanding. But he was in charge. Alexandria itself was run by Rick and Deanna. If they needed something done, Daryl was happy to do it, but he had no interest in assuming any control over the town.

Out here on the road it was different. Daryl had to make the hard decisions. He was doing his best, but it still felt like he was wearing a shoe that didn't fit him right. If anything happened to Rowan or the kids, Carl and Enid still felt like kids in his mind, it would be all on him. His fault. It was his responsibility to keep them safe. And now the damn horse had run off and Morgan was hurt and he felt like it was all his fault.

"Are you coming with us or staying here?," Daryl asked Carl. The boy looked in the direction the horses had gone and then looked back at his girlfriend, twisting a piece of his hair between his fingers.

"Go," Enid told him, "Tank can stay with me and I have my rifle. I'll be fine." She gestured towards Rowan and Daryl. "They could use your help getting Molly back." If they needed to surround the herd of horses, three people would be better than two. Carl lifted his head, jerking his chin at Daryl. He was going.

They left most of their things at the campsite with Enid, taking only weapons and a days worth of food and water. Rowan brought Molly's harness and tossed an extra riding blanket over Comet's back. Carl hugged Enid tight against his chest. She pressed her lips against his neck and squeezed back. Then she sat down next to Morgan and got a firm grip on Tank's collar. Rowan had told the dog very firmly that he was to stay with Enid. But the girl knew better than to trust that the dog would listen. As soon as Rowan got out of sight, he would start throwing a regular fit, trying to chase her down. And Daryl didn't want Tank with them. He was afraid the big dog might spook the horses and make them run.

Like Daryl had guessed the night before, the large group of horses left a well trampled trail that was easy to follow. Carl and Rowan might have been able to follow the horses by themselves without his expert help, it was so obvious which way they had gone. They travelled for about an hour before Daryl was sure they were getting close. The droppings the horses were leaving behind were looking fresher. Carl was up on Comet's back, keeping a lookout for not only horses, but anything else that might be coming their way.

The area surrounding them was starting to feel less like woods and more like a residential area that had just overgrown after the turn. Rowan was careful to observe the surrounding area. Things that looked familiar but yet unfamilar at the same time kept catching her eye. She thought they had another day or two on the road, at least, but now she was starting to think they were closer to her old home than she realized. But when they emerged from the woods and she caught sight of the bridge she knew for sure.

Her community, along with several surrounding communities, saved money for three years to build that bridge. Rowan had donated the money from an entire litter of puppies she sold. And she had given up visiting her father one summer so she could help her mother's womens group run a booth at the famers market to raise more money.

The bridge went up over the highway. But it was not for cars to drive on. It was for the animals. So they would be able to get to one side of the forest to the other without being run over. The leaders of her community had not been able to prevent the highway from being run straight through their land, so they organized the building of the bridge instead.

Rowan frowned, edging closer to Daryl for the comfort that he gave her. What was left of the bridge was a sad sight. It was overgrown with vines. The middle had colapsed or maybe even been blown up for some reason. It was hard to tell. But down near the bottom, Rowan saw something that made her face light up in a smile. Molly. The herd of horses was grazing in the open area down near the bottom of the bridge. Rowan flung into Daryl's arms, kissing him full on the mouth in her excitement. Carl swung down off Comet's back and just for good measure, Rowan flung her arms around him as well.

Daryl stuck one finger in his mouth and then held up it up above his head, testing to see which way the wind was blowing. If the horses caught smell of them, they would probably bolt, and that was the last thing he wanted now that they had finally found them.

"You stay here on this side of them with Comet," Daryl told her. "Get as close as you can and then whistle for Molly." He knew Rowan would be able to get close to the animals. There was something about her that animals seemed to like. She might have been able to do it alone, but with Comet to disguise her scent, she would be able to get even closer. He and Carl were going to sneak around to the other side of the herd just in case they ran. "We are going around the other side, try to box them in." Rowan nodded. Daryl motioned to Carl and they both took off back into the woods. She could see the top of Daryl's head bobbing around for a moment and then the forest swallowed him up.

Rowan held Comet's reigns, moving slowly. Any time she saw the horses look up, she let Comet stop and graze. Horses didn't graze if there was danger around. She knew the sight of him eating would put the other animals at ease. As they got closer and closer, Rowan could feel the excitement building inside her. She could see Molly. They were almost there. When she thought she as close as she was going to be able to get, she put her fingers to her mouth and whistled for her horse. This was a special whistle, the one she used only to call Molly. The one that meant food and special treats to the black horse.

Several horse heads popped up at the sudden noise, but none faster than the ink black one with the white streak down the muzzle. Molly shook her head around and started off in the direction the whistle had come from. Rowan fought the urge to whistle again and hurry her up. Keeping hold of Comet's reigns, she stepped out and reached her hand out to her horse. Her fingers brushed across the soft fur above Molly's nose. Then she was hugging the horse to her, feeling Molly's knee come up and press into her lower back to pull her closer.

Rowan pulled her bag down off one shoulder to get Molly's harness out. She was looking down into her bag and didn't see the large grey and white stallion charging in her direction until it was too late. The big horse shoved in front of Molly, pushing her back and away. Then he reared up, sounding a loud challenge. He snorted and pounded his hooves into the ground, then reared up again.

The second challenge was more than Comet could take. Comet was much younger and not nearly as filled out as the larger stallion. But he reared up anyway, ready to fight. Rowan tried to keep hold of his reigns, but the leather ripped through her hands, forcing her to let go in order to prevent being severly rope burned. She fell back onto her butt on the ground and crab crawled away backwards to keep from being trampled. The stallion charged at Comet, forcing the smaller horse to back off. Then he corralled Molly back towards the herd, nipping at her flanks.

Rowan let off a shrill noise, snorting air through her nose much like the horses had just been doing. She had the sudden urge to call that big dumb horse every dirty word she knew, a list that had increased significantly since she had started living with Daryl. "So rude!," she finally announced with another high pitched squeak of irritation and a stomp of her foot. The sight of that big stallion biting at poor Molly and forcing her to go with him really rubbed Rowan the wrong way.

Rowan brushed herself off and called Comet back to her. She got ahold of his reigns. He had bucked off the riding blankets and she pulled him along with her as she moved to retrieve them. "Should have bit that big bully horse," she muttered to Comet. "Wish Daryl would shoot that dumb horse with his bow," Rowan grumbled. She didn't really mean that last part, but she was starting to think shooting the herd stallion might be the only way to get Molly back.

Rowan grabbed the riding blankets, getting ready to toss them over Comet's back. Suddenly she froze. Dropping the blankets, she looked around. A terrifying chill creeped up her back. Her eyes were wide, and she glanced around quickly to try and find the sorce of the danger she knew was coming. But there was nothing in the woods behind her. Not even a single walker.

Rowan took a breath, trying to calm herself. She turned back to the horses, looking to see how far away Molly was. That was when she saw it. Smoke. Lots of smoke. She must have smelled it before she saw it. That's what scared her. Rowan was confused. She looked around, trying to figure out where the fire was coming from. Daryl and Carl would not have set it without telling her, but they were the only people around as far as she knew.

The smoke wasn't just scaring Rowan. It was also frightening the large herd of horses. They were starting to group together, tighter. And they were moving towards the bridge. Rowan heard voices then, human voices that she didn't recgonize. People were hooting and hollering. Rowan couldn't understand what they were doing until she saw someone on the far side of the clearing waving a torch. She gasped, her hand coming up to grip the crystal around her neck for comfort. These people. They were trying to cause a stampede. They were trying to make the horses run up the bridge and off the drop off. And Molly was in the middle of the frightened herd.

Rowan grabbed the blonde hair of Comet's mane and swung herself up onto his back. She kicked him hard in the sides and held on tight, sending him charging towards the herd. Rowan yelled as loud as she could, trying to make the horses move out of her way. She was trying to keep control of Comet, but she didn't ride the animal very often and he wasn't used to her signals the way Molly was. They were being carried along in the sea of churning horses, straight towards the drop off.


	5. Chapter 5

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter Five

Daryl wiped his hands on his pants and got a firm grip on his bow. He muttered a few curses under his breath, feeling the fear course through his body as the giant grey and white stallion reared back, kicking it's hard hooves rear Rowan's head and face. His heart was beating so hard in his chest he could hear it pounding in his ears. Leaving Rowan alone on the other side of the clearing had been a terrible idea. Maybe his worst one yet. If he had stayed with her, he could have shot that damn horse and gotten Molly back. Now he was stuck on the other side of a huge pack of horses, forced to do nothing but watch as the woman he loved was nearly kicked and trampled to death.

"Damn," Carl swore, "I can't get a clear shot." Carl had the rifle. Daryl knew the kid was a good shot with it too. Not the best long distance shooter of their small group. That honor belonged to Enid. But Carl was a close second.

"Jus' as well," Daryl told the boy, "the noise might send them all off runnin' again." Carl nodded.

Molly was now back in the middle of the pack of horses. They were going to have to regroup and come up with another plan to get her back. Daryl was thinking about just shooting the lead stallion. But he didn't want to kill the animal if they could find another way. Despite the fact that the horse had kicked it's hooves up near Rowan, he was still an impressive looking horse. Almost majestic. Daryl was worried about what would happened to the herd if he killed off their leader and protector. He had always been fond of horses and he didn't want this group of them to die needlessly. But if it was the only way to get Molly back, he was going to have to do what he felt he had to do.

"Do you smell that?," Carl asked. He sniffed at the air and glanced around nervously. "Smells like smoke." Daryl pulled himself out of his thoughts and breathed in deep through his nose. He nodded his head at Carl. The boy had a good nose. It did smell like smoke. Daryl wasn't worried at first. Smoke just meant that there were people nearby. Maybe cooking something over a campfire. But the smell was starting to get stronger. Severeal of the horses had their ears back. They were prancing around nervously and Daryl knew they smelled it too.

The smoke was getting thicker and Carl pulled up his shirt to cover his mouth. Daryl was wondering if maybe some kind of forest fire was coming their way. It had just rained two days ago, so the chances of that seemed slim. But that was the only explanation he could think of at the moment. Daryl started trying to signal across the clearing at Rowan. He changed tactics quickly when he saw what she was doing. Before he could stop himself he was screaming at her.

"Stop Rowan! GO BACK!," he yelled. That woman had lost her damn mind. She was on Comet's back, charging into the herd of frightened horses. The smoke was getting thicker, coming from the other side of the clearing. It was going to make the horses stampede up and over the edge of the broken bridge. And now Rowan was in the middle of the herd, being carried along by the press of the other horses. She was calling for Molly, but Molly was stampeding along with the herd.

Daryl raised his bow. He had not wanted to kill the lead stallion. And he really didn't want to shoot Comet. The horse was more than a pet. He was family. Daryl cared a lot for the animal. But he was willing to kill him to save Rowan from being carried off over the edge of the bridge. Daryl lifted his bow and squinted his eyes, taking aim. He didn't hear the footsteps crunching down behind him until it was too late. As he turned towards the noise, the side of his head exploded in pain. Little spots of red and white swam in front of his eyes . Everything went black. And deep down in the darkness he was alone.

TWD

Daryl started to wake up. His head was pounding and when he reached his hands up to feel how badly he was hurt, he found his wrists were bound tightly behind his back. That woke him up. He took stock of his situation immediately. Testing the ropes that held him and trying to see if he could slip out of them. He couldn't. Clumps of his hair were stuck to the side of his face and he guessed they were covered in his own dried blood.

The space around him was small and dark. But there were cracks of light coming in from the top of the small structure. He was locked inside a small metal storage shed. His weapons were gone. That was to be expected. Rubbing his ankles together, he tried to feel and see if the smaller knife he kept in his boot was still there. He was thinking he could slip that out and maybe manage to cut the ropes that bound him. Sadly, it had been taken along with his handgun and the hunting knife he kept in his belt. That was his favorite knife too. Damn.

His chest was bare against the dirty floor and he realized that his shirt was ripped open and along with his weapons, his leather vest was also gone. That made him angry. His vest was the only thing Daryl had left that had belonged to his brother. He lost Merle's bike when the prison fell. Plus, he kept the tiger's eye charm that Rowan made him in the inside pocket of the vest, close to his heart. He understood that people wanted to steal his weapons and supplies. Even his vest. But that charm had no value to anyone but him. It really pissed him off that someone took it. That charm meant more to him than even his wedding ring.

Daryl rolled, pushing with his feet. He managed to get himself into a sitting position and then regretted it immediately. His stomach churned and he turned his head to the side, afraid he was going to puke. He felt light headed. The sensation made him worry about how hard he had been hit and how long he had been unconcious. He started trying to remember how he got here.

Everything came back to him in a horrible flood. The images washing over him and making him even sicker to his stomach. Rowan. On the back of their honey colored horse. Fighting to control the horse as the herd stampeded around her. The last thing Daryl remembered was Rowan being carried away in a sea of frightened horses, heading for the edge of the broken bridge.

Daryl was on his feet in an instant. He started yelling and kicking the door of the shed, ignoring the pounding in his temples.

"LET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!," he shouted. His voice was hoarse and he realized as he yelled how thirsty he was. He also had to pee. Badly. But most of all, he had to get out of this tiny box prison and find Rowan. The thought of her being hurt and afriad somewhere without anyone to help her was more than he could stand. She might be dying. He had to get out. "LET ME OUT!," he screamed. Then he threw himself against the doors. They were locked from the outside, but he was in a shed, not a iron prison. If he slammed into the doors hard enough with his body, the hinges would give out.

There was a flurry of excited voices around the outside of the shed. As Daryl moved to slam into the door of the shed again, it was flung open and he slammed into a person instead, knocking both him and one of his captors to the ground. Daryl was ready to try and fight the person he landed on. But then he realized the person under him was a girl. No more than Carl or Enid's age. She was shrieking and batting at him with her open palms.

Daryl rolled off the girl and got up onto his knees. He closed his eyes at the rush of nausea and bit down on his lip hard to keep from passing out. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear them of the water that had collected under his lids. The girl he had knocked down had been dragged away by another woman. She was brushing herself off and glaring at him, looking half afraid and half embarrassed.

Daryl glanced around at the rest of the small group that was surrounding him. Something was strange about them. It took him a moment to realize what it was. They were all women. Most of them had short haircuts. And they were wearing men's clothing. Maybe trying to appear more masculine. But they were women just the same.

Most of them were holding sharpened sticks or knives. But one of them had Carl's rifle slung over her back. The same one that had dragged the girl he fell on away. She was on the shorter side and skinny through the waist, but very curvy in the hips and chest. Her hair was blonde and she wore it longer than the other girls. At least the ones Daryl could see. Probably to try and hide the horrible scars that cut across one side of her face. Four parellel lines, the top one looked like it had almost taken the woman's eye out. They led back under her hair and Daryl wondered if she still had an ear left on that side. He also wondered what or who had done that to her face. The marks almost looked like scratches from a giant cat.

Daryl opened his mouth to speak and his voice came out choked and scratchy. The blonde woman gestured to someone Daryl couldn't see. A few moments later a girl was standing near him, holding a water bottle. She pulled the cap off and waved it around in front of Daryl's face. He nodded to indicate that he did indeed want a drink. She put the bottle near his mouth and dumped some water in. He tried to chug it back, but it poured out too fast and he ended up gagging on most of it. The girl wrinkled her nose, looking disgusted. Then she tipped the water bottle up more slowly and Daryl was able get a few swallows of water before the bottle was yanked away and the girl disappeared behind him again.

"I need to get out of here," he said. He directed his comments towards the blonde woman with the scars, since she seemed to be the one in charge. "I have to find my wife." The mention of Rowan sent his mind spinning again. He was picturing her in every horrible situation possible. She was so gentle and sweet. He hated to think of her alone out there in the beyond without him for even a moment. He wasn't even sure if she would be able to find her way back to Alexandria without him.

Daryl started trying to get to his feet, but two of the woman put their hands in his shoulders and forced him to stay on his knees. He took a deep breath and stopped resisting. If he wanted to get out of this, he was going to have to stay calm. These girls had not done anything terrible to him yet, besided knocking him out and tying him up. And they might have done that because they were scared. Acting crazy and fighting them was not going to get him untied any faster.

"Wife?," the blonde woman asked, "there was no woman with you. Only the boy." She fingered the gun that was slung over her shoulder. Carl's gun.

"Where is he?," Daryl asked.

"He's safe," the woman said. The corners of her mouth turned up into a sadistic grin that made Daryl doubt her words.

 **** I am going to be using a few of my OCs from another story as the villians in this story. So if you are also reading the Lady Claimers you might be able to guess who the curvy blonde woman is. This story is completely separate from that one, so you don't need to read it to enjoy this. Thanks to everyone that took the time to leave a review, and I have inspiration photos up on tumblr under my same pen name if anyone would like to check them out. ****


	6. Chapter 6

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 6

The swirling mass of panicked horses was pulling Rowan and Comet closer to the drop off. But they were also gettting closer to Molly. Rowan whistled long and loud for her horse. The animal was scared, and the urge to run with the herd was strong. Imbedded in her bones along with all the other instincts she was born with. But Molly had spent enough time around campfires to not be as panicked as the other animals were by the smell of smoke. To her, smoke meant safety from the dead that roamed the countryside. It meant food and clean water and the love and tender care she recieved in droves from the woman that was calling her.

Rowan's familiar whistle had come to mean safety and security to her horse. Rowan held back the tears in her eyes as she saw Molly slow down and then stop. The sturdy black horse managed to turn itself around. When she got close enough, Rowan leaned to her right and grabbed a handful of Molly's long black mane. Then she jerked hard on Comet's reigns and kicked her heels into his flanks. _Diana take the wheel._

Rowan kept her horses moving until they were far enough away that she didn't have to hear the sickening thuds of the other horses as they sailed over the end of the bridge and crashed to the ground. Swinging down from Comet's back, Rowan threw herself into Molly, hugging the horse as hard as she could. Molly nibbled at Rowan's hair, making her happy little horse noises. The ones that she only made when she was excited enough to act like a little colt again.

Comet was feeling left out of all the affection and he crowded in towards the happy pair. Rowan soon found herself smooshed between the two giant animals. They were squashing her so she could barely breathe. She shoved Comet back a step and slipped out, letting the two animals have a chance to greet each other without her in between them. Now that she had reunited with her animal companion, Rowan started looking around for her friends of the human variety. Daryl and Carl had been on the other side of the clearing. And she had ridden a little further away than she needed to. So Rowan wasn't getting worried yet. Daryl would turn up after a few minutes, just like he always did.

Fifteen minutes later, there was still no Daryl. And no Carl. Rowan tried her best to follow the instructions Daryl had given her on what to do if they ever got separated. _Its harder to track a moving target. If you ever get lost, stay where you are and I will come for you._ But she was starting to get more and more worried. There had been other people around. The ones that chased the horses off the overpass. Rowan guessed the people were just hungry and had killed the horses for food. That didn't necessarily mean that they were bad people. Daryl admitted to her that he got so hungry he ate dog meat once. The thought made Rowan step closer to Molly, rubbing her hand up the horse's neck to twine her fingers into the coarse black hair of her mane. She would starve die before she ever ate her animals. Or let anyone else try and hurt them.

Rowan decided she couldn't stand to wait any longer. She pulled herself up onto Molly's back, keeping Comet's reigns in her hands. Afraid of the people that she might run into, Rowan felt for the knife she kept on her waist in the decorative beaded sheath. In that moment she was grateful to Daryl for making her practice with it. On the other side of her belt, she had her slingshot and a cloth bag of smooth round stones that would fly straight. As soon as she had the slingshot in her hands, a smooth rock tucked away into the cup, she felt more confident and less scared. It made her think about Michonne.

Michonne had taken Rowan on as a sort of personal project. Rowan guessed that the woman had done it because Daryl asked her to, though he would never admit it. He wanted Rowan to be able to protect herself, and their baby, if she needed to. The fact that Michonne was prohibited from doing the sort of things she usually did might have also played a part in her decision to train Rowan. The woman was pregnant, bored and feeling restless.

So Michonne started with gun training. Which, of course, turned very quickly into a complete disaster. Rowan was afraid of guns. Hated guns. Squinted her eyes shut when she had to fire one. Also the guns Rowan was given had a tendency to disappear and never be found again. This made Rick a very unhappy camper. Especially when it was one of his guns that _accidentally_ got dropped in the lake.

Next was sword fighting. Rowan would swing around the walking stick that used to belong to Morgan. She could hit a walker with it. But she wasn't very good with a sword or a machete. Michonne even let the woman borrow her sword to practice with. The next day she found Rowan out back on her porch using it to give herself a haircut. _This thing is really sharp Michonne, thanks for letting me borrow it._ That was the end of Rowan's sword fighting career. And pretty much the end of Michonne training her. Michonne had her beautiful baby a few days after the haircutting incident anyway and no longer had loads of extra time on her hands. Especially for what she now considered to be a rather large waste of her time.

Daryl tried to teach Rowan to shoot his bow. She wasn't half bad if she actually tried. Which she usually didn't, because shooting cute little animals made her feel bad. She didn't mind cooking them and eating them if they were already dead, but she hated doing the killing. The other problem with the bow was Rowan didn't have the upper body strength to string it. She would need a crank attachment to really be able to use it, an item they were fresh out of in Alexandria.

Reg was the one that gave Rowan the slingshot. It belonged to his son Spencer, but the young man never used it. Why would he when he had a perfectly good gun? Rowan liked the slingshot. It didn't look scary, like a gun. More like a toy. Daryl saw the gleam of interest in Rowan's eyes when Reg handed the item to her. And he would be god damned if she wasn't out of the back porch the very next morning practicing with it. Her dad was watching her, drinking his stinky herbal tea on the porch swing with his happy fat cheeked baby on his lap. Daryl opened his mouth to offer his wife some encouragment. but he saw Rowan's father shake his head at him.

"Make a fuss over it and she will throw the thing away," her father whispered under his breath to Daryl after he took a seat next to him on the swing. Her father knew her best. So far nothing Daryl had tried had motivated Rowan to want to learn to protect herself. And he had tried a lot of shit. Pretty much everything he could think of to do.

So Daryl sat quietly, letting Rowan's brother climb over into his lap and rest his warm little head against his chest. He sat quietly and he watched. Rowan wasn't going to win any slingshot competitions any time soon, but he was happy to see she was mostly hitting what she aimed for. Tin can after tin can fell prey to the small round stones she hurled at them. A week later she was up on the wall with Spencer, taking turns with the slingshot. Popping off walkers with river rocks.

Rowan held the slingshot by the cup, the hard rock pressing into her palm. The best thing about the slingshot was that she knew she could use it to protect herself without killing anyone. A hard flung rock to the head would kill someone. But a hard rock to the shoulder or thigh would send them packing. Packing but still alive. Rowan didn't want to kill anyone. Not even mean people.

Comet was staying close to her and Molly without much urging, but Rowan kept his reigns in her hand anyway. The last thing she needed was for someone else to take off and get lost. She headed across the open grassy area where the horses had been grazing, taking care to keep her eyes away from the direction of the bridge and all the dead horses that lay under it.

Rowan got to the other side of the clearing where she hoped to find Daryl and Carl. No one called out to greet her and she was starting to get a sense of foreboding deep down in the pit of her stomach. She swung down off her horse and tied both horses reigns to the branch of a sturdy looking tree. Then she started walking around the edge of the clearing searching for any signs of Daryl or Carl.

Rowan found one of the torches the people had been using to chase the horses. Some thin tendrils of smoke were still curling up into the air from the charred end of it. Rowan picked it up, putting her hands in the spot where the last person had held it. She closed her eyes, trying to get a feel for the kind of person had held the torch last. The images came in quick flashes, too fast for Rowan to really see what they were. Horses running. A tall fence made from wooden beams. Orange and black striped fur. She saw and she also heard. The cries of the little children she had been hearing in her dreams. Rowan dropped the stick, kicking it away from her with a look of disgust.

There was a flattened bush nearby. It looked like someone had been flung into it or stomped on it. And it was too far away to have been trampled by the horses. Rowan edged closer. Down in the broken thorny branches she found what she was looking for. A torn scrap of plaid colored fabric. She rubbed it between her fingers. The material was familiar, but she couldn't place from where at first.

It came to her in a sudden flash of terror. Carl's shirt. The western style one with the faded white piping that he and Enid took turns wearing. That's where this fabric came from. Someone threw or tackled Carl into a bush. Maybe even hurt him. Rowan felt her eyes start to fill with tears but she bit down on her lip and wiped them away with the back of her fist. This was not the time to start getting emotional. She had to stay calm if she wanted to help the boy. Rowan shoved the scrap of fabric down into her pocket and kept moving.

Finding the scrap of fabric had been bad. It scared her. But what Rowan found around the other side of the next big tree sent a chill straight up her spine. It sent big fat crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks with no hope of holding them back. There was a small puddle of fresh blood. And another torch. This one unlit, with blood on the end of it where the char from the flame should be. Next to the blood was Daryl's crossbow.


	7. Chapter 7

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 7

Daryl sat with his back against the wall, trying to rub some of the feeling back into his hands. His wrists had been boundly tightly. And for a long time. Sharp shooting pains were still radiating down into the tips of his fingers as the nerves in his hands came back alive. After he tried to explain himself to the women that were holding him captive, he had been shoved roughly back into the shed and the door had been locked behind him. But on the bright side, at least those crazy bitches cut the ropes that were binding his wrists before they caused permanent damage to his hands.

There was a lot of yelling going on somewhere outside the shed that Daryl was being held in. He couldn't make out what was being said or done, but he heard a lot of angry voices blended together. Followed by three quick gunshots in a row. That made the hair on Daryl's arms stand up and he lay down on the ground to look through the tiny crack at the bottom of the door. Trying to see if he could see anything that was happening outside. All he could see was the dirt patch in front of the shed he was locked in. He leaned back, grumbling to himself, trying to decide if he was better off staying in the shed until whatever fighting that was going on was over, or if he could use the commotion as a distraction while he busted the door open and ran away. His stomach made the decision for him and he turned and puked into the small bucket that had been tossed inside the shed with him.

The gunshots were followed by the sound of someone screaming. Maybe two someones, it was hard to tell from inside the shed. The voices got quieter and Daryl heard the sound of the screaming turn to crying. Then it was gone. He lifted up the torn remenants of his shirt and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He was sick from whatever concussion he had gotten from being hit in the head, and the heat inside the shed was not helping. The air around him reeked of his urine and vomit mixing together in the plastic bucket and he scooted across the shed, trying to get as far away from the smell as possible. His head was pounding so hard it was getting difficult for him to even focus his eyes.

Daryl slid down the wall, lying his head on his arm. It felt slightly cooler lying on the floor. He thought about concusions and how you weren't supposed to sleep when you had one or you might slip into a coma. Then he started thinking about Rowan. Her hair and the smell of her soft skin. The little bump between her hip bones that was getting bigger everyday. How she might have gone over the cliff with the horses. Daryl was feeling sick and dizzy. And hopeless. If Rowan and his child were dead, he wasn't sure if he wanted to live. He shut his eyes and let the darkness close in around him.

The shed was suddenly filled with bright light. Daryl woke up spitting and sputtering from the bucket of cold water that had been tossed in his face. Wiping the water from his eyes, he tried to scramble to his feet. He slipped on the water and fell on his ass, hearing feminine laughter drift into the shed from the doorway. Then he felt the strong arms of at least two women catch him under the armpits and he was hauled up to his feet. He had no idea if he had only been asleep for five minutes, or if this was the next morning and he had been passed out all night. The disorientation only added to the pounding in his head.

Daryl saw the woman to his left was the one he recognized from earlier, the one with the scars on her face. When he felt her swing his arms behind his back to bind his wrists again he threw and elbow into her side and yanked his arms hands free. The other women started closing in, poking at him with pointy sticks. One jabbed him so hard that a trickle of blood ran down his arm.

The blonde woman regained her balance and grabbed his wrists again, harder this time. She tied his hands behind his back and then she shoved him forward, harder than was necessary. He stumbled and fell, banging one knee hard on the ground to catch himself since his hands were tied behind his back. The blonde woman yanked him back to his feet. She was stronger than she looked.

It was unusual to see a woman that muscular who still looked so curvy. She had large breasts. The side of one of them had pressed into Daryl's arm when she yanked him to his feet. From the soft feel of it, Daryl guessed they were real. If Merle was here, he would be all over that woman, even with the scars on her face. _Wish he was here. Maybe he could charm us the fuck out of here._ Daryl's brother was an absolute asshole. There was no denying that. But he had a way with women. Merle could turn on the charm as easy as other men could flip a light switch. A skill Daryl had most definitely not been blessed with.

Daryl was led, or rather prodded and poked, out away from the shed, past a large fenced in area, and out in front of a building that looked like a big camping lodge. The sort of place you would go to eat your meals at if you were away at summer camp. Not that Daryl ever went to summer camp. He saw the movement from the corner of his eye as they walked. Orange and black striped fur, moving in a blur. A huge tiger came at him, stopped only by reaching the end of the thick chain that was secured around it's neck. It hissed and took a swipe at him before it backed off and returned to it's spot in the bushes to the side of the steps that led up into the building.

"Holy fuck," Daryl swore. He had darted out of the way of the animal, not knowing it's chain was far too short for it to reach them. Some of the women laughed at him, but the laughter sounded forced and nervous. They were scared of the big cat too. And for a good reason. There was no question now as to where the blonde woman's scars had come from.

"Katie." The voice came from the front steps of the building. Daryl looked up to see a woman walking down the steps. She was tall, and unlike the other girls, her hair was long and fell down over one shoulder. She was wearing Daryl's leather vest, and the handgun he had tucked into the back of his pants was now tucked into a holster on her hip. "Bring him over here," the woman said. Since the blonde woman moved to obey her, Daryl guessed she must be Katie. She shoved him forward and then he felt her hand on his shoulder, pushing him down onto his knees.

"What the fuck is goin' on here?," Daryl asked. He didn't care for the way he was being treated, especially when he had done nothing to these women to deserve it. The red haired woman gave Katie a nod. Without warning, she whipped her hand back and slapped Daryl across the face. She didn't hit him that hard, but she hit him on the side of his face that was already hurt. His head snapped to the right and he saw spots swimming in front of his eyes. The pain radiated down through his neck into his shoulders and he gritted his teeth against it. The blonde woman snapped her fingers in front of his face to make sure she had his attention.

"You don't speak unless spoken to," she informed him.

"Coulda jus' said that," Daryl grumbled under his breath. _No reason to be acting like such a bitch._ Daryl had the good sense to keep that last comment to himself. The blonde woman glanced up to see if the other woman to see if she wanted her to hit him again, but the red haired woman waved her away. She came down the last few steps and walked over to where Daryl was kneeling.

The woman leaned down and got a good look at his face, then she started circling him. Daryl felt like a mouse that was being toyed with by a cat. The woman looked him over, he eyes lingering on his arms and the bare skin of his chest where his shirt was ripped open. Finally she stopped in front of him.

"Why were you trying to steal our food?," she barked out. When Daryl didn't answer right away he was prodded with the tip of a pointy spear. Not hard enough to break the skin this time, just hard enough to hurt.

"Ahh," he shouted, "Wasn't stealin' nothing from nobody." Damn these bitches were crazy. But since he had been accused of stealing, Daryl was starting to feel a little hopeful that maybe this was some kind of misunderstanding that he might be able to clear up.

"Lies!," the woman said.

"S'not a lie," Daryl insisted, "didn't steal nothin' from any of ya." Since the woman was wearing items she had stolen from him, he was finding this whole line of questioning rather ridiculous.

"You were trying to steal our meat," the woman accused. Her eyes were wide and wild. The more he looked at her, the more Daryl started to understand that she was just plain crazy. "The penalty for stealing in this camp is death!" Some cheers from the other woman rang out at that announcement.

"Got no idea what the hell yer even talkin' about," Daryl yelled over the background noise.

"So you weren't trying to shoot at the horses we were hunting?," the blonde woman named Katie stepped forward and asked. She was angry with the man. If he or that kid had shot off one of their guns or hit one of the horses with the bow he had, they might have spooked the horses in another direction and sent them away from the broken bridge. They needed that meat or they were going to starve come fall and winter.

"My wife's horse was in that herd," Daryl said, trying to stay calm and not yell at these women. He had a feeling getting angry and rude was not going to help his cause. "We were only trying to get her horse back."

"More lies," the woman with the red hair yelled, "if you were trying to get your horse back, why would you be shooting at them."

"Because my wife was about to be carried over the edge of the bridge with the rest of the horses, I was trying to save her," Daryl explained, feeling frustrated. The more time he wasted being questioned here, the further away Rowan might get and the harder it would be to find her.

"Wife? Were any women found near the bridge?," the red haired woman asked Katie. Katie shook her head. She only found this guy and the kid that was with him. But she had seen something crazy. A woman with long black hair riding full speed into the herd of horses and then riding away safely like she had some kind of magic powers over animals. Katie thought she must have breathed in too much smoke from the fire and imagined that. Now she wasn't so sure. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. If they had not found Rowan's body under the bridge with the horses, that meant she was still alive. Alive and uncaptured.

"Just more lies," the tall woman announced. She waved her hand around until and older woman stepped forward. "Clean up his head and put him in the pen," she told the woman. Then she turned on her heel and stalked back inside the building. Most of the woman seemed to take this as a sign to break up the meeting and head back to whatever chore they had been doing before Daryl was hauled out of the shed. Katie stayed. She motioned for Daryl to follow the woman with the long grey hair that had stepped forward. When he didn't scramble to his feet fast enough she poked at him with the end of Carl's rifle.

The older woman walked away from the clearing and headed for a smaller, out of the way cabin. Daryl followed along after her, not that he had any other choice. Katie was right behind him with Carl's rifle. The woman gestured Daryl into her cabin and set him down on wooden table. Katie tried to follow in after him, but was told by the older woman to wait outside.

"Try anything and you're dead," she hissed at Daryl before taking up position next to the doorway. After the older woman shut the door, Daryl looked around. The place was filled with hundreds of glass jars of varying shapes and sizes. Some had burlap wrapped around some of them to keep the light off the contents inside. Plants were hanging up to dry, suspended from the ceiling. He recognized some of them from living with Rowan. She used them to make medicinal teas and salves. The plant hanging in the far corner was the same stuff Rowan's dad used to make his stinky morning tea. Daryl understood now that he was in what served as this camp's infirmary.

The woman started by untying the ropes that were holding Daryl's wrists together. She turned his wrists over in his hands, checking to see how bad his rope burn was. As she checked over Daryl's injuries, he took the chance to observe her. The woman was older, her hair even whiter then Carol's. It was twisted into a long rope that hung down over one shoulder. She had kind eyes and a thin silver ring through one nostril. But what really made Daryl hopeful was the crystal she had dangling around her neck on a slim sliver chain. It was amber colored, but the same shape and size as the one Rowan wore. Her clothes had the same baggy effortless look to them that Rowan's had. Daryl knew he was in or near the place where Rowan grew up. Maybe this woman knew her.

"What is this place?," Daryl asked the woman. He figured he would start with an easy question and work up from there. Casual conversation wasn't really his strong suit. There was a long silence. At first Daryl wasn't sure if the woman was going to answer. Maybe she wasn't allowed to speak to him. But as she gently washed the dried blood off the side of his face to check how bad his head was hurt, she spoke to him. Her voice was low and husky.

"It used to be called Twin Oaks," she said, "but now people call it Magnesia, after the place where the Amazons were from. Or Amanda's man trap." She said the last part with an almost sad looking smirk.

"Man trap?," Daryl asked. He didn't like the sound of that.

"Amanda. The tall woman with the red hair. She likes to kill all the men that have the misfortune to wander into what she considers her territory," the woman explained. "I'm Robin by the way," she added like she had been rude to start speaking to him without introducing herself properly first. Daryl nodded and gave her his name in return.

"If Amanda likes to kill all the men that come through here," Daryl asked, "why is she having you fix my head?" The older woman looked at him with pity in her soft brown eyes. What she said next sent a chill up his back.

"She must have plans for you."


	8. Chapter 8

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 8

Rowan stared down at the small puddle of blood. _Its not that much blood. Its really not that much._ Daryl would not die of blood loss. And he was gone. If he was dead, whoever took him would have left him here. No one would waste time and energy carrying around the dead body of someone they didn't even know. Not even Rowan. She put her hand against the closest tree and took a few deep breaths, trying to slow her breathing down so she could think more clearly.

Daryl was not going to come for her. She was going to have to find him. But there was a problem with that. Daryl was the tracker, not her. Rowan scolded herself. All those hunting and tracking lessons Daryl had given her. Why hadn't she been paying attention to the lesson instead of staring at his arms? Rowan thought about her father, knowing if the man was here, he would not be impressed with her right now. Daryl was hurt, possibly kidnapped and all she was doing was standing next to a tree crying like a little baby. If she was the one that had been burt and carried away by strangers, she knew Daryl would be busting his ass looking for her.

"Quit your crying and go look for him then," Rowan muttered to herself, trying to sound tougher than she felt. First thing was first. Rowan grabbed up Daryl's crossbow and slung it over her back, wincing since she flung it too fast and the bottom part slammed into her lower back. She adjusted the bow until it was in a comfortable position resting over her shoulder. Then she started making some feeble attempts to follow the trail of the people that took Daryl. Rowan only made it back to the bush where she found the scrap of Carl's shirt before she had no idea which way to go next.

If Tank was here, Rowan knew he could track the people with his nose. But Tank wasn't here. He was back at camp with Enid. Rowan smiled at how silly she was being. She was dumb to try and do this alone when she had all the help she needed just a short horse ride away. Rowan untied the horse's reigns from the tree branch where she had fastened them and pulled herself up onto Molly's back. She didn't keep hold of Comet's reigns this time. She was planning to ride way too fast for that. He would follow Molly anyway. Rowan clasped her crystal and gave a silent thanks to whoever might be listening that she had at least been paying attention on the way to find the horses so she would be able to find her way back.

Kicking her heels in, Rowan leaned forward and gripped on with her thighs, giving Molly the signal to run. She kept her head down, hearing the branches of trees whip by over her as they sped through the forest. Her hair was flying out behind her, mixing in with the long hair of Molly's mane and tail. The horse's strong muscles bunched and shifted in a steady rhythm between her thighs. Water splashed up on the legs of Rowan's pants as they trampled through a familiar creek. Rowan breathed a sigh of relief, since now she knew for sure she was going the right way. When they were almost back at camp, Rowan sat up and pulled back on Molly's reigns to slow her down.

Rowan heard the howling before she saw him. Tank would not stop trying to run away after Rowan, and Enid had been forced to wrap his leash around a sturdy tree to keep him there. And then the dumb dog wouldn't shut up. He had been whining and barking and carrying on like a wounded moose, attracting every walker in the area into their camp. Enid had to start piling up the bodies over by her tent, cursing and calling Tank every nasty name she could think of while she was doing it.

"Molly!," Enid cried out, running over to hug the horse around the neck. Rowan jumped down and started over to release Tank. He broke the leash before she could get there and ran for her. She crouched down and let the big dog rush into her arms. He covered her face and neck with his sloppy wet dog kisses.

"Where's Carl and Daryl?," Enid asked. Rowan came riding in all crazy and fast, so she figured the guys were walking. They would be along in a minute. Then she saw Rowan's face. The woman looked sad and scared at the same time, never a good sign. And she had Daryl's crossbow on her back. Another bad sign. He let the woman shoot it sometimes, but she never took off with it on her own.

"Oh god, are they dead?," Enid asked. Her bottom lip started to quiver and her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

"No, no," Rowan told her, rushing for the girl to wrap her arms around her, "They're not dead. But someone took them." Rowan reached into her pocket and pulled out the scrap of Carl's shirt that she had found tangled up in the flattened bush. She stuffed it into Enid's hand and the girl curled her fist around the peice of material, as if by keeping it safe in her hand, she could keep Carl safe too.

TWD

The horses were packed with the bare minimum of supplies the girls thought they might need. The rest had been stashed up between the high branches of a tree. They could come back for that stuff later. Supplies were just supplies. They could always be replaced. People could not be. Rowan stood next to Molly, holding the horse's reigns and staring at her dogs.

"What are we going to do about Morgan?," Enid asked. Rowan chewed at her lip, looking down at the dog. Morgan was walking around fine, but he was still sore. She knew he wasn't going to be able to keep up with her and Enid once they got on the horses. Rowan felt like she was being forced to make a terrible choice. Storm clouds were threatening and they had to get Tank to the trail Daryl and Carl's captors had left behind before it started raining. They needed to get there as fast as possible. But Morgan needed to take it slow. Rowan squared up her shoulders.

"He is just going to have to follow behind us at his own pace," she said, trying to sound more sure of her decision than she felt about it. She felt Enid's hand come down on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"He can follow us with his nose," Enid reminded her. She knew this was hard on her friend. It was hard on her too. Despite Tank's recent obnoxious antics, the big dog had saved her life more times than she could count and Enid loved both dogs like family. She didn't want to have to run and leave Morgan behind when he was hurt. But they had to find the guys. Sometimes there was no good choice. "He'll be okay."

Rowan tore her eyes away from the gangly white dog and forced herself to climb up onto her horse. Enid quickly did the same. Since she knew where they were going, Rowan led the way. This worked out best since Molly got stubborn if she was forced to ride behind Comet. The girls rode fast. Tank was able to keep up, but Morgan slowed fell behind until he could no longer be seen.

When they approached the clearing, Rowan was ready to ride in head first, but Enid signaled for her to stop. There were other people around. Possibly violent and dangerous people. Enid had no interest in getting snatched up. They couldn't help the guys if they got kidnapped themselves. Stashing the horses a little further back in the woods, the girls crept forward and watched the clearing for a while. Rowan was getting antsy, wanting to take Tank over and start following the trail. Especially since a light rain was starting to fall. Little droplets trickled down through the trees and rested on their arms and hair in a light mist. But Enid made her wait. And it was a good thing she did.

Not ten minutes after they got there, Rowan and Enid spotted them. A small group of about four people carrying up a huge load of horsemeat from the under the bridge. They had it on a hammock that they were supporting with two long sturdy poles. Each person had one end of a pole. Rowan knew Tank saw the people too, since he emitted a low growl from deep in his throat. He better not start fucking barking and give us away, Enid thought. Rowan must have been thinking the same thing because she shushed the dog up in a hurry, holding close and putting her mouth gently around his muzzle to keep him quiet. At least Morgan had not caught up with them yet, or his silly puppy butt would probably be chasing after these psycho's to beg for a treat.

"Lets follow them," Enid whispered. Rowan nodded. They left the horses where they were for the time being and circled around the clearing instead of cutting through so they could keep themselves hidden. Despite the heavy load the people were carrying, they were long gone by the time Rowan and Enid got around to the other side of the clearing. Rowan showed Enid the spot where Daryl and Carl had been taken. Enid picked up the stick that Daryl had been hit with and turned it around in her hands, looking at it. Rowan was about to set Tank on the trail when her head popped up.

"I think I hear voices," Rowan said, her own voice barely above a whisper. Enid's hand clamped down around her arm and she hauled Rowan quickly away from the spot and pulled her down behind a bush. Tank followed them and Rowan wrapped her arms around the dog to keep him quiet. She did hear voices. And they were coming this way.

"...what do you think she's going to do with him?," one said.

"He's good looking so what do you think," the other voice answered in a nasty tone that shut the person that was asking the questions up in a hurry.

The people passed by Rowan and Enid's hiding place, only missing them by a few feet. Rowan was surprised to see that what she had assumed was a group of men was actually all women. They were dressed in men's clothing and they all had short haircuts. The one that looked the youngest, her hair was so short it looked like it was growing back from being shaved bald.

"You think Daryl and Carl got snatched up by a bunch of women?," Enid whispered, wrinkling up her nose.

"Maybe they were hurt and these women took them to a doctor," Rowan suggested hopefully. Enid rolled her eyes at the other woman.

"Don't be stupid Rowan, Daryl didn't hit himself over the head with that club," she hissed back. Rowan sighed and shrugged her shoulders. She felt the same familiar frustrations rising up in her. Why couldn't some people they met just be nice? Were only mean, nasty rude people the only ones left alive in this world? Deep down, she knew Enid was right but a few moments later she got physical proof that these women were up to no good.

When they passed close by, Rowan noticed one of the women had a familiar item strapped to her waist. Daryl's knife. She knew it was his. The sheath it was in had been a present from her. She beaded it during the winter when they were stuck inside because of the snow. And her dad had carved the designs on the handle. His artwork could never be bought. He only made things for people he liked.

Rowan watched the women disappear down the hill, heading to pick up another load of horsemeat. She felt her fists clench as an unfamiliar feeling rose up inside her. Anger. It tasted metallic in her mouth, like she was sucking on a penny. These women hurt Daryl. They took him away from her. Maybe they hurt him simply because they wanted the things the man had on him at the time. His gun and knife. They were the bad people Rowan had been seeing in her dreams. And now they were going to get what was coming to them.


	9. Chapter 9

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 9

Once his wounds had been tended to, Daryl expected to be taken back to the shed he was being held in before. Instead, Katie marched him over to the large fenced in area he had seen when he was walking past it to be questioned. The wooden fence was high, and topped with twisted barbed wire. Daryl had not paid much attention to it before, assuming that the women must be keeping some sort of livestock inside, like the goats and chickens they kept fenced in at Alexandria. But as he got closer, he saw movements behind the wooden planks. And human eyes peeking out a him between the cracks.

Several women were guarding the gate that led into the surround. One looked younger than the rest and her hair was so short it was almost shaved. She was the only one that made eye contact with Daryl. The other woman ignored him, wrinkling up their faces like he smelled bad, which he guessed he might, since he had been sleeping in a tiny hot box with a bucket of his own piss and vomit.

When the woman moved to open the gate, the people peeking out from the inside scattered away from it. Daryl was shoved inside, with a few harder than they needed to be pokes from the rifle Katie was holding. Then the gate was slapped shut behind him. He heard the latch being snapped into place.

The first thing Daryl heard was Carl's voice. "Daryl!" The boy ran at him, throwing his arms around Daryl's neck in what Carl would normally consider a rather unmanly gesture of affection. Daryl hugged him back, happy to see that his friend was alive and unharmed. Then Daryl looked around at his new accomodations. There were a lot more people inside the small area then he expected. They were all men of varying ages. They were filthy and hungry looking. That didn't always mean much, a lot of the people that Aaron and Rowan's dad brought in from the road were dirty and hungry. But these people had a different look to them. They looked starved and beat down.

A man approached, using a wooden walking stick to aid his limping movements. Daryl could tell he wasn't able to put much if any weight on his right leg. The man had long white hair that was twisted into dread locks, sort of like how Michonne wore her hair. In contrast to the white of his hair and curly white beard, the man's skin was dark and weathered. He looked old, especially for someone that had made it though the turn, but his eyes were bright and alert. Daryl had a sudden flash of Hershel. That was who this man reminded him of, despite the difference in skin tone. The man had a look to him that was distinctly Hershel. Wise and kind at the same time, the old farmer had always inspired unquestioned respect. The man stuck his hand out to Daryl. It was the first gesture of friendship Daryl had received since he arrived in this camp. It made the corners of his mouth turn up into a slight grin.

"Daryl Dixon," Daryl told the man, surprised at the strength of his grip.

"Ezekiel," the man responded. He smiled and added with obvious sarcasm, "King of all that you see before you." He waved his arms around like he was showing off a grand landscape instead of a dirty pen where people were forced to shit and piss in one corner and sleep in the other. "Welcome to the pen." Daryl gave the man's hand one more pump and then let go.

"What the hell is going on around here?," Daryl asked. He directed his question towards the older man, but also glanced at Carl, who he was hoping knew more by now than he did. There was an overhang on one end of the pen, but instead of sitting under it to get out of the sun, Daryl noticed most of the men were huddled up near one of the fenced walls. He heard a loud moan coming from under the overhang. Sounded like a damn walker. Before the older man or Carl could answer his question, Daryl went stomping over to see who or what was making the noise.

Daryl moved back, covering his mouth and nose with his arm, quickly understanding why the other men were huddled against the fence. There was a man under the overhang, lying on what looked like a dirty pile of hay. The man was dying from a very badly infected puncture wound in his leg. The smell of the infection was unbearable. He had to have some advanced stage of gangrene in his leg. There was so much puss and swelling. Along with that, the man was lying in his own excrement. Daryl had seen some crazy shit. But nothing like that. It was absolutely disgusting. At the very least, that man should be put out of his misery before he died and turned.

"Katie's amazon women and their pig stickers did that," Ezekiel explained. "He tried to escape." Daryl nodded, understanding now that the man had been left inside this pen to die a horrible death on purpose. To teach the other men in this pen some kind of lesson. Those women out there were crazier than he thought. And meaner. This was some sick twisted shit.

"Do you have a knife?," Daryl asked the man. Ezekiel shook his head. None of them had weapons of any kind. Or anything that could potentially be used as a weapon. Daryl kicked at the ground, looking around the place. In the corner near where there men relieved themselves, there was a pile of food scraps. Daryl stomped over and nudged through the pile with the toe of him boot, trying not to breath through his nose.

He found what he was looking for rather quickly. A sturdy looking bone. It had been the foreleg of some medium sized animal. Maybe a deer. Daryl grabbed the bone and brought it down on his knee, cracking it in half. Making two formidable weapons. He handed one to Carl. The other one he kept in his hand and headed back under the enclosure.

Daryl fought his nausea as he crouched down next to the dying man. He held the sharp shard of bone up in front of the man's face, looking at him questioningly. The man nodded, looking grateful. He knew days ago when the fever set in that there was no hope for him. He didn't want to be in pain any longer. Daryl pulled back his arm and jabbed the bone in through the man's ear, killing his brain. He heard a few audible gasps come from behind his back. Ignoring them, Daryl grabbed the man's now dead body by the ankles and started dragging him out from under the overhang. A hand came down on his shoulder.

"He's one of ours," Ezekiel said, "we can take care of him." Daryl nodded at the man and stepped back. Ezekiel gestured for a few other men to step forward. They were so skinny and weak, it took three of them to drag the man's body across the small enclosure. He was left near the gate.

Daryl opened his mouth to start asking questions. He had quite a few. The first one being why in the hell these men stayed in this dirty pen instead of fighting their way out. This was some pussy shit. Most of those women didn't even have guns. Before he could speak up, the gate was flung open.

"Line up!," Katie hollered at the men. Daryl saw all the men moved quickly to comply, so he did the same. He figured the less attention he could draw to himself the better. Not that he didn't already stick out like a sore thumb. He was at least twice the size of every man in this place. Carl shuffled in front of him. The men were led outside and lined up along the fence. Daryl and Carl were taken aside and both of them had their hands tied behind their backs. The rest of the men's hands were left free.

No explanation was given as to where they were being taken. Daryl looked for a chance to make a break for it, now that he had Carl with him. But Katie and a few other choice women were keeping a very close eye on him and the boy. He had obviously been branded as a trouble maker already. The women marched them down a hill and away from the main camp area to a grassy spot where a lot of people were already gathered around waiting.

The group was all women and girls. But Daryl noticed not all of them had short haircuts like Katie and the other guards. These women looked mostly like people that might have been from this community before the turn. Several of them had long flowy dresses or loose pants on, like the type Rowan favored. When Daryl was marched in closer, he realized he was attending a funeral.

Three bodies were laid out on the ground. One young woman and two young men. Each one of them had been shot through the head. One. Two. Three. The shots Daryl heard fired from inside the shed. The girl looked like she might have been pretty when she was alive. She was pale with long coppery red hair. The boy to the left of her was black, with a shaved head. The boy to the right was hispanic. Both looked like they had been beaten severely before they died.

The tall woman Daryl knew now was named Amanda stepped out in front of the crowd. She looked around, her eyes lingering on Daryl for a moment before she spoke.

"No one here is immune from the rules!," she yelled out. Daryl's face itched. He tried to turn his head and rub it against his shoulder, but it was no use. What was this fruit loop yelling about now? He was already sick of this woman's shit. No one is ammune from the rules? What the hell did that mean? Then Daryl took another look at the dead girl on the ground. Her hair. It was almost the same color as the woman's who was speaking. And they bore more than a passing resemblence in the face too. Did this woman kill her own daughter? Daryl had no idea how anyone could be that sick.

Before Amanda could speak again, an older woman with dark skin and curly dark hair stepped forward out of the crowd. She pointed at the taller woman.

"You are to blame for this!," the woman hissed.

"Silence!," Amanda yelled back at the woman. But the woman would not be silenced. A very pregnant looking girl, about the same age as the dead kids, came forward. She grasped the older woman by the arm and started trying to pull her away. Daryl guessed she was the woman's daughter. They looked enough alike to be family.

"Silence or what?," the woman screamed. "Go ahead and kill me Amanda! You already killed my son! My daughter is as good as dead as soon as she gives birth! You're a fucking monster!" The girl holding her mother's arm put a little more force into her grip and managed to pull the woman back into the crowd. But not fast enough. Amanda yanked a knife from her belt and headed after her. Daryl sucked in his breath. If someone didn't do something quick, they were going to be digging another hole in the ground. Maybe more than one.

To Daryl's relief the woman that had cleaned up his wound for him stepped out into the path of the leader of this camp. Robin. That was her name. She held her hand out in front of her.

"She's sick with grief Amanda," the woman said. Her voice was low and shaky. Daryl could tell she was afraid. But she was holding her ground, giving the other woman's daughter time to usher her away. "Just let her be." Amanda narrowed her eyes at the older woman. Then she cocked her hand back and slapped Robin hard across the face, rocking her head to the side. When she straightened back up, Daryl could see the red outline of a handprint welling up on her face. Her lip was split and blood was dribbling down from the corner of her mouth.

"Get on with it and get them in the fucking ground," Amanda screamed out. She didn't seen to be talking to anyone in particular. Then she marched off in the direction of the main lodge. Several women in long dresses stepped forward and lifted the sheets the young people's bodies had been laid out on. To Daryl's surprise a few of the men went down to help. No one stopped them.

The boy's bodies were placed into the shallow graves that had been dug for them. Then the people stepped forward and lifted the body of the girl up. When they started to shovel the dirt in on top of her, Daryl heard a strange strangled sob come from behind him. He cranked his head around to see where the noise had come from. When he found the source, he quickly averted his eyes, feeling like he had seen something he was not supposed to see. Katie. The woman with the scars that had treated him no better than cattle. She was keeping quiet in an obvious attempt to control herself. But there was a river of silent tears streaming down the good side of her face.


	10. Chapter 10

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 10

 **** Just a warning that this chapter contains some content that might be disturbing. Mostly implied torture that happened before the story began. Nothing too graphic but it might be upsetting for some people. Thanks to everyone that took the time to leave a review. ****

Once they had been placed back in the pen, Daryl started to ask more questions. For each one Ezekiel answered, Daryl felt like he had ten more for the man. Ezeliel offered up a lot of disturbing information. The dead girl that had been buried earlier was the daughter of the woman in charge of this camp. Amanda's daughter, the dead boys, and the young pregnant girl Daryl had seen at the funeral had tried to escape. To run away from this place. Ezekiel didn't know the details. Only that he had woken up one morning to find the boys gone from inside the holding. The small group must not have made it very far before they were caught and brought back.

That story was horrible, especially the parts Daryl knew the man was leaving unsaid. He had seen the bodies. Those boys had been beaten within an inch of their lives. Daryl knew a thing or two about being hit. And from the looks of those boy's bodies and how many different colored bruises they had on them, Daryl guessed they had been beaten and tortured over an extended amount of time. Probably at least a week.

"Why did those women kill the girl?," Daryl asked.

"She tried to escape again," Carl said. He had heard enough yelling about that from inside this pen to have some idea of what was going on. "I think she tried to help those guys."

"She was in love with one of them," Ezekiel added. He figured that was what really set the girl's mother off. Amanda hated men. Warned her daughter over and over to stay away from them. "Her and Lauren, the pregnant girl you saw at the funeral. At night, they have been sneaking in here, or sneaking the boys out."

They sat crosslegged in the dirt as they spoke. There was no where else to sit down in this place except for on the ground. Carl had the piece of bone Daryl had given him earlier. He worked away on it, sliding the edge of it across a rough rock over and over again. Honing the pointed end of the bone until it was razor sharp.

One of the other men in the pen approached them. He was carrying a child in his arms. Daryl had not noticed the boy before. He had seen a few boys around Carl's age. But this one was quite a bit younger than that. He couldn't be more than seven or eight. He was so skinny. Like the kids in those commercials that used to come on late at night where they would try and get people to send them money. For just fifty cents a day you can provide for and water for a child just like Bobby.

"They want to sit with you and meet the new guy," the man told Ezekiel. He sounded like he was asking permission. Ezekiel nodded and the man lowered the child to the ground. The boy took a few hobbling steps. Something was wrong with either his leg or his hips, Daryl thought as he observed the child. Ezekiel held his arms out for the boy and gathered boy into his lap.

The man walked away and returned with another child. This one was slightly older, maybe a little younger than Carl. Once again, the boy's age was hard to guess since he was so scrawny looking. This boy was not carried over, he was walking with a stick and the man's arm to aid his movements. But there was something wrong with him. The same thing that was wrong with the other boy. Daryl felt confused. He thought about the swine flu that had swept through the prison. Had these people been affected by some sickness that had crippled the children? It was the only explanation he could think of.

Daryl realized he was staring at the boys with his mouth open. He snapped it shut, glancing towards Carl to see if he knew what was going on. Carl just shook his head and handed Daryl the sharpened piece of bone. Daryl took it and handed the boy the other half of the bone, so he could sharpen that one up too.

"This is Troy," Ezekiel said, stroking his hand over the boy's hair that was sitting in his lap. The older boy that was crowded in on the side of him was called Matt. "This is Daryl," Ezekiel told the boys. The one in his lap had his dirty thumb in his mouth. But his eyes flicked towards Daryl. The older boy gave a little nod, but neither of them made any attempt to speak.

"What happened to them?," Daryl asked. He honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to his question. It was more like he had to know. Rowan had been waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, saying she heard little children crying. Daryl had assumed the dreams had something to do with her pregnancy. Like that she was just nervous about the baby or something. But now, looking at these boys, he got a weird feeling. Almost like having deja-vu, but in reverse. His arms broke out in gooseflesh and he felt a shiver run up his spine.

"Troy's mother," Ezekiel said, gesturing to the boy in his lap. "Her husband was locked up in this pen. She wanted him back. And not only that, she was whipping up a bunch of the other women, trying to get them to stand up to Amanda and her little team of maneaters. Amanda sent Katie to grab up the woman's son." Daryl took a closer look at the boy. His knees were turned almost towards each other. Daryl had been forced to watch enough sports on tv to know what that meant. The boy's hip was dislocated.

"I'm not sure if they meant to pull his hip out of place," Ezekiel continued, "at first I think they were just trying to make him scream. So his mother could hear it. But after it happened... well I guess they decided it was a good way to keep people from running away."

"I hate Amanda," the older boy announced with a sniffle. Carl's head popped up. It was the first time he had heard either boy speak.

"I know," Ezekiel told the boy, putting an arm around the boys shoulder. He looked up at Daryl. "The women. They found Matt when they were out on a run. Amanda took him in to live with her. But she treated him more like a pet than a child. She liked to dress him up in girl's clothes and parade him around. Sometimes she would take him to bed and sleep with him like he was a stuffed animal or a baby." Daryl raised his eyebrows at the man. This Amanda woman was sounding crazier by the minute. He wondered how she maintained control over these people for so long. But then he thought about the governor, Gareth from Terminus, Joe. People were easier to control when they were afraid.

"Why did she do that to his leg then?," Daryl asked.

"He did something that made her angry," Ezekiel replied.

"Like what?" Daryl was having a hard time thinking of what a kid could do that would make a grown woman angry enough to disfigure him permanently. Had he tried to run away or something? That seemed like a popular crime in this camp.

"He hit puberty," the man explained. Daryl was confused for a moment, but then he thought back to when he was about that age. It was about the time that boys started waking up with morning wood. It was a normal part of life, it happened to all men. But he could imagine what that crazy woman's reaction would be if it happened in her bed. Daryl nodded in understanding. "Amanda flew into a rage. She had her women do this to Matt's leg and then she threw him in here with us."

"Hate her," the boy said again, scrubbing the tears from his face. Before Daryl could ask anything else, the gate to the pen was swung open. Carl quickly shoved the bone he was sharpening under his shirt.

Katie came striding in, Carl's rifle balanced menacingly in her hands. She looked the men over and then gestured to someone outside the pen. Some women came in, carrying big jugs of water and large platters of cooked meat. Daryl guessed it was horse meat. A food that he would normally not find very appealing. But at the moment, it smelled like heaven. His mouth filled with saliva and his stomach started grumbling immediately.

Daryl had not had anything to eat since the night Molly ran away. He had gotten spoiled on Rowan and Nokake's cooking all winter. In Alexandria, supplies were not unlimited. They didn't have their most favorite foods available all the time, but there was always enough of something to go around. Besides, he swore those girls could make a gourmet meal with some ground corn and an old bone. Daryl had gotten very used to having a full belly.

Most of the men in the pen had climbed to their feet. But Daryl noticed none of them were making a move towards the food. They were just standing around staring at their feet. Like they were scared that if they did or said anthing wrong, the food might be taken right back to wherever it came from. What they should be doing was charging Katie and grabbing her gun. Then getting the fucking hell out of this animal pen. Daryl thought about making a move on her himself, but he could tell the woman was watching him like a hawk. The thought of jabbing her through the neck with the extremely sharp chunk of bone that was stuck in the back of his pants was a more pleasing thought than he figured it should be.

The women who brought the food in were ushered back out. Katie threw one last suspicious glance in his direction and then headed out behind them. She told Amanda from the start. That one was going to be trouble. They should have just killed him right off the bat. Even now he looked like he was up to something. Probably thinking about how many times he would have raped her if he had caught her by surprise in the woods instead of the other way around.

Once the gates were closed, the men approached the trays of food. Daryl figured they would all start digging in, but instead the plates were lifted up off the trays first, like the men were looking for something. One of them held a folded piece of paper up in the air. That seemed to be what they were searching for. The paper was given to a man Daryl guessed was in his twenties. The man took the paper and grabbed a chunk of meat, taking off under the overhang to read his note in private.

"His wife," Ezekiel explained, "she hides letters for him with the food." Daryl nodded. He noticed the older man shoved his way through and made sure the boys got something to eat before he fed himself. Carl darted in with them and grabbed a two hunks of meat. He handed one piece to Daryl and started gnawing on the other one.

"If she really wanted to help," Daryl said, thinking about that man's wife, "she would hide a knife under that plate." A man that was standing nearby gave Daryl a dirty look.

"Wait until you try something," the man told Daryl. He ticked his head towards Carl. "They will put your friend in the cage without food or water for a few days. See how brave you are then." The man had been watching before. He saw Daryl and Carl sharpening up bits of bone like they were going ever going to be able to get close enough to use them. Plenty of men had already tried something similar. And where were they now? Dead.

"The cage?," Daryl asked.

"The shed they had you tied up in," Ezekiel explained. Daryl nodded.

"Y'all can't be happy, livin' like this," Daryl said. He gestured around him. This was no way for anyone to live. Daryl still thought these men were chicken shits. But he was starting to better understand the dynamic of what was going on in this place. If these women had Rowan, and he knew if he tried to escape that they would hurt or starve her, he would be much less likely to try anything.

The man that had been speaking looked irritated. But there was also a slight gleam of interest in his eyes. "Well then, what would you suggest we do instead?," the man asked.


	11. Chapter 11

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 11

Time passed slowly when there was nothing to do but stare at the inside of a wooden box. The minutes turned into hours and the hours turned into days. Daryl had been counting the days. He and Carl had been in this place almost a week now. They were both starting to get more and more worried about the girls. Carl kept saying he knew they were fine. That they must have gone back to Alexandria to get help. Daryl wanted to believe it, but really he thought it was a pipe dream. He tried not to let Carl see how hopeless he was feeling, but he was getting more and more sure that Rowan was dead or hurt somewhere. The pain of missing her was worse than anything he had ever experienced before in his life. At his darkest moments, he almost wished he had never met the woman.

Very little food or water had been brought into the pen since the night they ate the horsemeat. Daryl had been let out of the holding only once. To help a few of the other men dig a trench he guessed was going to be used as a toilet. Carl had been left inside the fenced area during this activity. And now that Daryl knew how things worked in this place, there was no way he was going to try and make a run for it without the kid. Those women would torture Carl to death or let that tiger they had chained up eat him alive while they watched. Plus Daryl felt light headed and dizzy from not eating or drinking enough. He wasn't sure how far he would make it even if he did get a chance to run.

Amanda came out to watch the man while Katie put him to work. His shirt was in tatters from when they hauled him in and they had not bothered to give him a new one. She could see how strong his arms were and she liked the way the muscles in his back moved and bunched as he worked. Amanda was happy to see that a week without food or water had softened him up. Men were stupid and easy to control. But it was even easier to control them when they were weak. She wasn't stupid enough to think she had full control over this new man yet. He was beaten, but he wasn't broken. A situation she intended to remedy as soon as possible.

Daryl sat on the ground, trying to stretch out a long piece of fabric and see if he could use it for anything. Carl was showing the older of the two crippled boys how to sharpen the end of a long stick to make a weapon out of it. When he was done, Matt hobbled over to hold up his spear for Daryl's inspection. Daryl took the stick and turned it over in his hands. Then he gave the boy a nod and handed it back. The stick would probably break the first time he used it, like most of the wood in this place it was too old and dry, but he had to give it to the kid, the end of the stick was wicked sharp.

The man that Daryl had noticed carrying the crippled boys around the most came over. Two other men were following along behind him, looking nervous. They also held crude weapons out for Daryl's inspection. It shocked him a little. He and Carl had done nothing but make weapons and wait for the right moment to use them since they got here. They had been watching the woman who guarded the enclosure, trying to get a feel for how often they changed shifts and which women were less careful about watching them. So far no obvious pattern had emerged.

Daryl had noticed a few of the men hanging around watching him and Carl sharpen up sticks and old bones, but this was the first time any of them had shown any desire to help. In fact when he had tried to talk to them before, they had all seemed adamant in their refusal to do anything to help. He figured they were just watching him because there was nothing else to look at inside this damn cage. Now he was hoping he had been wrong. This place felt like it was getting smaller and smaller by the day. Daryl was getting mighty sick of staring at nothing but the wooden beams of the fence. It would be a lot easier to get out if ten people were fighting instead of only two.

"Looks good," Daryl told the men before he handed the weapons back. The one man seemed like he had more to say, but instead he just nodded his head and walked back to sit under the overhang. Those men had made some weapons, but Daryl wasn't convinced they were ever going to be brave enough to use them. At the moment, he was thinking about following the three men and trying to get a feeling for how serious they were about getting out of this pen. But he stopped when he heard the sound of the gate being opened. Food. That was the first thing that came to mind when he heard the gate. Then he felt the anger starting to rise in him. He felt like a rat in a maze. One that was being trained with tiny bits of cheese.

Katie came in. And none of the long dress wearing women came in behind her. That was not a good sign. She looked around, her eyes narrowing as she observed the men sitting under the overhang. Something was going on in this pen, she could feel it. The men seemed jumpy, like they were up to something. She didn't like it, but she knew her sister would brush her off if she mentioned anything.

"You and you," Katie said, pointing to Daryl and Carl, "Let's go." She gestured for the men to follow her like they were so stupid they might not understand her words.

Daryl trotted along as he was instructed. He expected to be put to work doing some sort of grunt labor. Like the last time they let him out. But instead he and Carl were led around the side of the corral and into the small clearing space in front of the lodge that he knew now was Amanda's personal living quarters. Her tiger was out from the bushes it was usually hiding in. The sight of it made Daryl nervous. He had heard stories from Ezekiel about how Amanda kept it fed. The big cat was lying on it's belly, flicking it's tail back and forth, looking at Daryl with more interest than he would like.

Daryl glanced around, noticing something that scared him even more than the tiger. All the women were out, not just Amanda's enforcers. They were gathered around the edges of the open space, looking like they were waiting for something bad to happen. Daryl started feeling the urge to run. Make a break for it now. He and Carl were out of the pen together. This might be their only chance. But another look at Katie and the rifle she was holding made him think twice. He didn't know how good of a shot she was and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

Amanda was standing on the top of the steps that led up into her lodge. Daryl noticed right away that something was different about her. She was wearing a lot less clothing then he had seen her in before. Not that he had seen her that many times, but all the times he had, she had been dressed in shapeless men's clothing just like the clothing that all the girls with the short hair wore. Now she was in his leather vest. And not much else. A black lace bra and a pair of very short cutoff demin shorts. They didn't look bad on her either. She had long shapely legs and slim hips. If it wasn't for the crazy glint in her eyes, he might have found her attractive.

"How do you like your accomodations?," she asked the man. Her eyes were on Daryl. Carl was being ignored for the time being like he wasn't even there. It was making Daryl nervous, since he was getting concerned as to the reason that the boy might be out here with him.

"How do ya think I like them?," he asked her. He was locked in a fucking cage full of piss and crap and people that hadn't had a wash except for in the rain for what he guessed was at least the last six months.

Taking the steps slowly, Amanda walked down. Her body language seemed inappropriate for the situation at hand. The swing of her hips was exaggerated and she stepped down on each step with a little bounce that made her breasts jiggle. Sometimes Rowan would act silly like that, dropping things on purpose and bending down extra slow to pick them up with a big grin on her face. But that was different. They were lovers. It sometimes embarrassed Daryl a little if she started doing shit like that to him when her dad was around. But it never made him uncomfortable like this.

"I think you have been punished enough for your stealing," she said. By now she was down on the ground, circling Daryl like a shark. She was getting really close to him too. Closer than he liked. She even reached out and brushed the tip of one finger up the length of his arm. The feel of her skin against his made him want to vomit. And he had not been fucking stealing anything in the first place. How many times did he need to say that shit?

"What do ya want?," Daryl finally asked her. It was taking all his willpower to reamain still and not recoil from the woman and her disgusting sexual advances. She stopped in front of him and smiled. All her teeth were showing and she reminded Daryl of a crocodile.

"I'm going to give you a chance to earn your freedom," she told him. Daryl's eyes flicked to the side, looking at Carl. The boy was shaking his head. He was thinking the same thing Daryl was. _It's a trick._ Daryl wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't going to accuse this woman outright of being a big fat liar. He wasn't that fucking stupid. She would kill him on the spot. So he shrugged his shoulders and waited to see what else Amanda was going to say.

"If you can make me _happy_ I will let you and your friend go," she informed him. Daryl's eyes got a little wider. _What the hell does this crazy bitch want? For me to fuck her in front of all these women like some kind of stud rental service?_ Daryl wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't going to fuck this bitch. Not even with someone else's dick. That was for damn sure.

Amanda was still smiling. This was not the first time she had played this game. Most men jumped at the chance to earn their freedom by fucking her. But they could never make her happy. She demeaned them all, forcing them to perform more and more degrading acts until she eventually grew bored with the game and killed them. But a few had gotten away. Word had gotten out. Travelers were learning to avoid this area. And the men in the pen had grown wise to her game. They refused to play, choosing instead to just kneel down and beg for their lives. Having a man this good looking to play with was a rare treat.

She closed the distance between her and Daryl and pressed her lips to his. Her hands ran up his stomach and over the hard muscles of his chest. His body went stiff and he turned his head away from hers. Amanda didn't like to be refused. This man was embarassing her in front of the other woman. She grabbed him by the chin and forced her tounge into his mouth. For Daryl, that was the limit of what he could take. His arms came up and before he even realized what he was doing, he shoved the woman away from him. Hard. She fell down on her mostly bare ass in the dirt. He knew as soon as it happened that he had made a deadly mistake.

"How dare you raise a hand to me!," Amanda shouted. Katie stepped forward to try and help her sister to her feet, but the woman lashed out at her as well, smacking her hand away. Once she was standing up again, Amanda brushed herself off. Then she pointed a finger at Daryl.

"Strap him to the practice target!"


	12. Chapter 12

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 12

The practice target. Daryl turned towards Carl, yelling for the boy to run. But it was already far too late for that. Two women were forcing the boy down onto his knees and one had a knife pointed menacingly towards his throat. Katie and the other amazon girls started closing in on Daryl. He knew they had a knife on Carl, threatening the boy, but something snapped inside Daryl. That woman kissing and touching him. He hated people touching him when he didn't want to be touched. It put him over the edge.

When Daryl realized they were grabbing for his clothes he started swinging. He went for Katie first, hoping that if he knocked her down, the rest of the women might back off. His hard fist slammed into the scarred up sife of her face and she fell back, spitting blood onto the ground. But the other women did not back off. If anything, seeing their leader fall only made them angry and more determined to do what they had been told to do.

Daryl was well past the point of feeling bad about hitting women. He swung on them like he would swing on a man. He pulled his knee up and kicked one of them in the hip, sending the young girl flopping onto the ground with a loud shriek. A few others got punched or elbowed. He put up a good fight. But he was eventually overwhelmed by the sheer number of them.

The women got Daryl onto the ground and held him down, binding his wrists with rope. His boots and pants were pulled off, leaving him only in the tattered remains of his shirt. Then they dragged him over to a tall wooded post and heaved him up off the ground. The rope around his wrists was wrapped over a hook that had clearly been put there for this purpose.

His arms were above his head, the rope pulling painfully against his wrists as he struggled to get free. His feet barely touched the ground. It took a little of the weight off his wrists. He was glad he was as tall as he was. A shorter man would have been hanging there suspended in mid-air.

Daryl looked around for Carl. The boy must have tried to put up a fight when Daryl did. Because he was now lying on the ground. There was a shallow cut on his neck and his mouth was bleeding from one corner. His hands were bound behind his back and his feet had been tied together. He looked scared. And like he might be ready to start crying. The women that were gathered around the outskirts of the clearing looked horrified. But none of them tried to leave or to hide their eyes. Daryl guessed they had been ordered to watch whatever was about to happen to him.

This had gone from bad to worse. Unless Rowan and Enid showed up with some help in the next few minutes, Daryl knew he and Carl were not going to be alive at the end of the day. Daryl strained his neck, turning to glance back at the wooden fencing that made up the pen he had been held in. He could see people pressed against the insides of the pen, looking out. Watching.

Daryl scowled. Those men had to know what was going to happen to him. He didn't understand why no one had bothered to give him any sort of warning. Maybe they didn't think it would make a difference. Or maybe they were glad this was happening to him and not one of them.

In a sick way the men in the holding had been glad when Daryl and Carl showed up. If too much time passed without any travelers coming through, they knew Amanda would get bored and string one of them up to her torture post.

Amanda had brushed herself off and regained her composure. She approached Daryl. He watched her walking towards him and thought about trying to kick her. But he knew it wouldn't make a difference. He was barefoot and at an awkward angle for kicking. Trying to kick her would just piss her off more. It wouldn't get him loose. He twisted his wrists in the ropes, but they were not budging at all. If anything, the weight of his body was making the knots in the ropes tighter.

Once she got closer, Daryl saw that the woman had a pen knife in her hand. The sun glinted off the blade. It was such a small knife. Like the kind that would flip out of a swiss army key chain. He knew as soon as he saw it, it wasn't long enough to kill him. She only meant to cause him pain.

Amanda licked at her lips, wetting them. She could feel the electricity flowing through her body. She always enjoyed it more when the man she was torturing was handsome. And this one was strong too. He wasn't even begging for his life yet. But he would beg. They all did eventually. By the end of this he would beg her to kill him. The small knife felt good in her hands. The heat was pounding between her legs as she thought about where she wanted to cut this man first.

Daryl saw her move in closer. He felt the hard tip of the knife press into his thigh. He turned his head away and closed his eyes. The only thing he could hope for now was that this was all be over as quickly as possible. He was hoping if he didn't put up any more resistance, maybe they would let Carl live. After all he had been through in his short life, Carl didn't deserve to die like this.

Daryl waited for the pain that would come with his skin being opened up. But it didn't come. Instead he heard the loud crack of a gun shot. Then he was falling to the ground. His knees buckled as his feet hit the hard packed dirt. Amanda scrambled away, trying to stay low since she didn't know where the shooting was coming from. Daryl scrambled back behind the post he had just been tied to, his eyes darting around to try and locate the person who had shot the rope that was binding him.

He spotted her right away. Enid was on Comet's back with a rifle in her hands. She had another loaded gun tucked into the holster on her thigh. Carl's hat was perched on her head. She was no longer pointing the gun at the practice target. She had the rifle trained on Amanda. When the woman started back up the steps towards the handgun she had left on the porch, a voice rang out from the opposite side of the clearing from where Enid was.

"Stop right there Amanda!" Daryl turned to see who had spoken, but he knew that voice too well for it to be anyone else. Rowan. She was on Molly's back. Her face was painted up, with even streaks of green and brown across her cheeks that went all the way back to her hairline. Daryl had spent enough time hunting with her father to know what the marking were. Warpaint. It gave her a wild and frightening look, which Daryl supposed was her intention.

His loaded crossbow was laid across her lap and she had her slingshot in her hands, a large smooth rock cupped and ready to be fired. Amanda stopped dead in her tracks, shocked that some strange woman she didn't know was calling her by name. Then she regained control and started back up the steps. Enid fired the gun again. Not hitting the woman, but hitting the step above her. Amanda took the not so subtle hint and got back down off the steps.

Daryl didn't see her get hit, but he heard Katie yip in pain behind him. When he turned his head he saw her rubbing her upper arm where a painful looking bruise was already welling up. She had reached for her gun, to swing it off her back. And Rowan had hit her in the arm with a rock from her slingshot. Daryl knew Rowan could have easily aimed for the woman's head and killed or seriously injured her. But she aimed for her arm instead and checked her force. That was only a warning.

"Katie put your hands on your head," Rowan yelled at the woman. Katie's eyes got as wide as Amanda's had when the strange woman called her by name. But she was even more afraid than her sister. This was the same woman she had seen ride wild into that stampede of horses. The woman's long hair hung down, mingling with the shiny black of the horse she was riding. Her face was an angry painted mask. For a moment, Katie really believed that the woman was some sort of creature. Half woman and half horse. A vengeful spirit that had come to make her pay for all the horrible things she had done. Katie put her hands on her head.

"Untie him right now before I shoot you dead," Enid hollered at the women that were standing closest to Carl. When they didn't move fast enough, she shot at the dirt near their feet. That got them going. They loosened the ropes around Carl's hands. Once his arms were free Enid yelled for the woman to get the hell away from him. He untied his own ankles and got to his feet.

"Daryl get your clothes on, we're leaving," Rowan hollered at the man, since he was still crouched behind the beam he had been tied to with a confused look on his face. The truth was, he was not sure if what he was seeing was real, or if he had passed out from blood loss and imagined all this. But Rowan's words got him moving. He grabbed his dirty pants off the ground and yanked them up. The button had been popped off, but thankfully they stayed up with just the zipper closed. Then he quickly pulled on his socks and boots.

"He will be needing all his clothes back," Rowan informed the women. "Including the vest you have on, Amanda." Enid pointed her gun at the woman to let her know they were serious. Amanda narrowed her eyes at the two women. Then she reluctantly removed the vest she was wearing and held it out for Daryl to reclaim. He snatched it out of her hands roughly, not wanting to get too close to the woman.

"My damn vest," he muttered. Then he slipped it on, grateful to have more of his body covered. Carl had already headed over to where Enid was and swung up onto the back of the horse behind her. He had one arm around Enid's waist and the other was holding the handgun that had been in her side holster. Daryl turned on his heel and almost ran for Rowan. She handed him his crossbow first and he slung it over his shoulder. Her legs hung forward, leaving the stirrups for him to use. He pulled himself up onto Molly's back, swinging one leg over. As soon as Daryl's arms went tight around her waist, Rowan pulled the horse's reigns hard to the right and kicked her heels in.

They were off. Riding as fast as Rowan rode Molly when she was the only one on her back. Normally such a wild ride would have scared the shit out of Daryl, but he only found himself wishing they were riding even faster. He wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and that camp as fast as possible. He held tight to Rowan's waist. She was no dream. She was here. She was real.

Back at camp Magnesia, all hell had broken loose. Some women were standing around staring with their mouths open. A few were nursing injuries they had recieved during their struggle with Daryl. Katie was still standing still with her hands on her head, staring the the direction the woman on the black horse had gone. Amanda stomped over and slapped the stupid look off her face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!," Amanda screamed. The woman was in a rage. Not only had those men escaped, but their women had made her look weak and stupid in front of the entire camp. The slap rocked Katie's head to the side. It seemed to wake her up a little from whatever idiotic trance she had been under. "You are fucking useless," Amanda raged at her, "I should turn my tiger loose on you again you stupid bitch!"

"What do you want from me!," Katie finally yelled back. The anger that flashed in her eyes at the mention of the tiger made Amanda back off a little.

There were more than a few women that hoped the fight would not end there. Katie was ruthless, but she wasn't psychotic. They thought things might be better if she was in charge instead of her older sister. She would not have shot her own neice in the face for trying to run away, that was for sure. And some of them thought they might get their husbands back. Katie hated men. But not the same way Amanda did.

"I do everything you tell me to," Katie yelled at the slightly taller woman. She had her hand on the knife that was attached to the back of her belt. "What more do you want from me Mandy!" Amanda was crazy. But she wasn't stupid. Katie was a better fighter. And all Amanda had on her was a tiny ass pen knife. She needed to redirect Katie's anger or the woman was going to turn it loose on her.

"Go after them, that's what I want!," Amanda yelled. Then she pointed in the direction the women on the horses had gone.

 **** I can see from my reviews that some people were really worried that something bad was going to happen to Daryl, so I decided to go ahead and post this today. I hope it was really exciting when Rowan and Enid came riding in to save the day. Thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. ****


	13. Chapter 13

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 13

A few days earlier...

Robin measured the dried herbs she had taken down from her shelves, making sure she had the right proportions of each. Then she lifted the bowl and poured the mixture into the empty jar she had ready. She picked up a roll of masking tape and ripped off a small piece, sticking it to the top of the jar to serve as a label. She was making a birthing tea for Lauren.

The girl wasn't getting any smaller and Robin had noticed a shift in the way she was walking earlier in the day. The large swell of her stomach looked lower and she was walking with her toes turned out and her hands on her lower back. Lauren's baby was coming soon, whether the girl wanted it to or not. It was a miracle she had not gone into labor from the stress of seeing her brother and the father of her baby shot to death in front of her. She was stronger than she knew.

The tea mix Robin made was for during labor. To help speed up the contractions and relax her so her labor would be faster and easier on her. Next Robin was planning to make the girl a tea that she could drink after, to help her milk come in. Robin paused with her hand on a jar, wondering if she should even bother. If the baby was a boy, it would be killed. And even if it was a girl, she wasn't sure what would become of Lauren after the child was out of her. Tears began to fill Robin's eyes. She had known Lauren since she was a baby. She had made the same labor tea for Lauren's mother and held the woman's hand in a tight grip as she brought her daughter kicking and screaming into the world. This should be a happy time. Instead she felt gripped with fear for the girl.

Her thoughts drifted back to the man who's wounds she tended the day before. She tried to push him out of her mind. He was nothing more than a dead man walking. Plenty of men like him had come through here. They all met the same fate. Robin reminded herself firmly that there was nothing she could do for the man. But her thoughts kept drifting back to him anyway. She knew she had never seen him before, but something about him had seemed so familiar. It was like a little tickle in the back of her mind. She had been having a hard time concentrating all day. It seemed like everytime she closed her eyes, she saw that man's face on the insides of her eyelids.

Robin decided to forget making a mother's tea for Lauren for the time being. Instead she ground up some valerian root for herself. To help her sleep. The stuff smelled and tasted horrible, but she knew it would knock her out cold. And at the present moment, that was what she wanted. She had not had a drink in years. Never much cared for the taste of alcohol. But if she had some right now she would drink it down until she couldn't even see straight.

The little electric tea kettle whistled. It ran off the small solar panel she had outside her cabin. She picked it up and dumped the boiling water over the strainer in her cup. As she waited for her tea to steep, she made a feeble attempt at cleaning up. She put the jars away on the shelves she had taken them down from. As she brought her arm down from putting the last one up, a flower broke off from one of the herbs that was hanging above her to dry. The tiny clump of purple petals fluttered down into her open palm. Lavendar. Aside from it's medicinal properties, she planted it for luck. Robin closed her fist around the flower, crushing it. No amount of luck would help that man. Or Lauren. She picked up her tea cup, intent on heading for bed. But the loud smack of a broomstick hitting the ground made her turn. Not towards the noise. The broom had fallen where she could see it. But towards the door. A broom falling meant company was coming.

That was when she saw the ghost. Lola. Her oldest friend. The woman had died during the first few crazy days of the outbreak. Bitten trying to help people she thought were sick. Robin dropped her cup of tea. It shattered to the ground, spashing her legs and feet with burning hot water that she didn't even feel. She took a step backwards, her breath catching in her throat.

The ghost woman stepped forward out of the shadows. She still looked like Lola, but her hair color was wrong. Robin took a deep breath, calming herself. This was not Lola. Lola was dead. This was her daughter. Rowan. Robin remembered her well. The wild girl with the raven hair. The one all the animals loved. Even when she had been nothing more than a baby, butterflies would flutter down and land on her shoulders.

"Rowan," Robin whispered. Rowan nodded. Suddenly the connection became clear to Robin. The reason that man who's head wound she cleaned had seemed so familiar to her. "That man they have in the pen...," Robin said, her voice coming out shaky and uncertain. Rowan nodded. It had been a long time since she had been with one of her own people. The subtle mind reading threw her off for a minute. She had gotten used to not having to guard her thoughts anymore. Rowan nodded again.

"He's mine," Rowan said, "and I want him back." She closed the distance between her and her mother's old friend. Reaching out, she took the woman's hand in hers. She locked eyes with the other woman, knowing as she was reading Robin, she was being read in return. Robin's aura was tinged red with fear, but behind that there was the pink and yellow tinge of friendship mixed with the violet that all her people wore around them in varying shades. She could trust her. Robin was not a part of this. Not willingly anyway. Rowan smiled at the woman as Robin's other hand came up to wrap around Rowan's hands.

"Will you help me?," Rowan asked the woman. Before Robin could answer, there was a commotion in the doorway. Tank charged in, with Morgan close behind him. They were both growling and snarling. Enid backed in next, dragging a young black girl with her. She had a knife to the girl's throat. And when they turned, Rowan could see the girl was pregnant. Very pregnant. She was the one they had seen at the funeral when she and Enid were spying from the woods. The one who's mother yelled at that nasty woman with the red hair.

"Enid, let her go," Rowan said. Enid did as she was told. The girl slumped to the floor, holding her stomach and gasping for breath. Enid wrinkled her nose up and stuffed her knife back into her belt.

"She saw me," Enid explained. It wasn't really her fault. If Morgan would have kept his stupid puppy mouth shut, the girl wouldn't have seen her. Enid didn't want to hurt a pregnant girl, but she didn't want to get caught and thrown in that big cage either. These people were crazy.

Tank rubbed against Rowan's leg. Then he trotted back to get a better look at the new arrival. Lauren assumed the dog was coming to attack her. He was huge too. Almost as big as that mangy tiger that Amanda kept chained up outside her lodge. Lauren slid back, climbing under the exam table until her back was pressing against the wall. Tank sat down in front of her. Then he lay down with his head on his paws and looked up at her, letting out a soft little whine. Rowan was about to call him off and tell him to let the girl alone, but then she saw the girl's slim dark hand dart out from under the table. It came to rest on Tank's head.

Rowan smiled. The girl was brave, she would give her that. Not everyone was willing to get their vital parts that close to Tank's large jaws.

"Get outta the way Tank," Rowan told the dog, nudging him with the side of her foot. Then she leaned down and offered the girl her hand. The girl took it and allowed Rowan and Enid to help her to her feet. Once she was up, she stumbled a step and bumped into Rowan with her stomach. Rowan caught the girl by the arm to steady her. She rested her other hand on the girl's swollen belly.

"Not too much longer now?," Rowan asked the girl. She couldn't help but smile, thinking about her own baby and how her stomach was going to be as big as this girl's before too long. Her little critter. The silly nickname was always on the tip of Daryl's tounge. She couldn't wait to see what her baby was going to look like. But this girl did not seem to share Rowan's enthusiasm. At the mention of her baby, her eyes went dark and she backed away to stare down at her feet.

"If her baby is a boy," Robin explained, "they won't let her keep it." Rowan glanced at the other woman to make sure she was serious. The look on her face said it all. That was the most horrible thing that Rowan had ever heard. And it was other women that were threatening this girl and her child. That made it worse somehow.

"Where is the baby's father," Enid asked. She was trying not to feel sorry for the girl, but it wasn't really working.

"He's dead," the girl said, "they killed him." Lauren backed up, sitting down hard on the exam table. She buried her face in her hands and started crying. Really letting go. To Rowan's surprise, Enid sat down next to the girl and put her arm around her. Enid didn't often offer her sympathies to anyone. _Being in love is good for her._ In fact, Enid didn't usually even like touching people except for her or Carl. Daryl got a pat on the back once every blue moon. Rowan guessed her friend might be feeling a little guilty for threatening the pregnant girl with her knife. Either way she left Enid to comfort the girl and turned her attention back to Robin.

"What happened here?," Rowan asked the woman. She had seen a lot of strange things out on the beyond. But this was her home. These were her people. What had happened to them to make them act this way? Threatening babies. Locking men up in a big cage and starving them. There had to be a reason.

Robin rubbed her face, trying to think about where to start. Amanda and some of her group had shown up with those men. At first most people were grateful to have them around. They were good at killing the roamers. But those men. They were bad. Robin guessed the men had been keeping Amanda and the other women with them by force originally, but at some point the women had just stayed with them because they were too sacred to run away. Things had just gotten stranger from that point on.

The group of outsiders decided to stay. Those men were the worst kind. Especially the leader. Joe. He started by grabbing up a few of the younger girls. The pretty ones. He and his men forced them. Not just that, they were mocking and laughing at the men here. Calling them sissies and encourging them to join in on their disgusting games.

When Amanda and Katie came up with the idea to put something in their food to make all the men pass out, Robin had been more than happy to help. She had mixed up the drug herself. It had seemed like a game a the time. Most of the women had been laughing as they tied up the sleeping men. But then Amanda started slitting their throats. Stabbing them. It stopped being funny after that.

"I don't even know where to start," Robin told Rowan. Rowan rested her hand on the other woman's arm. Robin looked tired. Like she had aged ten or twenty years since the last time Rowan had seen her.

"Start at the beginning," Rowan urged. Her voice was low and gentle. "Tell me everything."


	14. Chapter 14

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 14

They rode hard, but it wasn't too long before Rowan slowed the horse to a stop. Daryl swung his leg over and slid down. Then he turned around and caught Rowan by the waist to help her down. She melted into his arms, holding him like she didn't ever want to let go. Lifting up on her tiptoes, she cocked her head to the side to peer over his shoulder. Then she let out a strange series of whistles. Two short whistles and then one long one. Daryl had not heard the call before. It wasn't one of his hunting whistles, not that Rowan knew many of them anyway.

At the sound of her whistle, Tank and Morgan came bounding out from behind a large bush. Morgan ran around them in a circle, barking with excitement like he wasn't sure who he wanted to greet first. He must have settled on Carl, because the boy was soon being dog molested in every way possible. Daryl expected Tank to go for Rowan first. Then maybe Daryl would get whatever licks were left over. That was the dog's standard greeting order. But to his surprise the dog came to him first. He shoved his large mass right in between Daryl and Rowan, making her fall back against the side of her horse. Daryl laughed and patted his chest. The big dog jumped up, bracing his forepaws on Daryl's shoulders and covering his face in copious amounts of dog slobber.

"Is that a new whistle?," Daryl asked Rowan as he tried to shove Tank off. Making the dog stop with his affections was turning out to be just as difficult as earning them had been.

"I had to teach them to hide," Rowan said. Finally she grabbed Tank by the collar and hauled him away from Daryl. "Those women eat dog meat," she explained, "we saw them catch a wild dog in a cage kill it." Daryl shook his head and took a better look around the small campsite he was in. They had ridden in almost a large circle. Leaving them on a hill up above the camp he had been held in. Several yards away, he recognized a weeping willow tree that he had noticed when he had been let out to work. The tree would be an ideal spot to hide and spy. He guessed it was where Enid and Rowan had been hiding to watch and wait for a chance to break him and Carl out. He wished he would have known they were there when he was staring up at it. It would have made his time in captivity much easier to bear.

The sound of a zipper caught his attention. Carl and Enid were trying to get the one small tent in the camp unzipped without taking their mouths off each other. It was obvious they were planning to climb inside the tent and have sex.

"Hey!," Daryl hollered at them. He earned himself a questioning glance from Carl and a very dirty look from Enid accompanied by her middle finger thrust into the air. Daryl snorted laughter through his nose. He supposed he would let her get away with it this time. But only because she saved his ass.

"They are goin' be coming fer us," Daryl reminded the young couple, "we need to be ready when they show up."

"We have horses. They don't," Enid informed him. Then she shoved Carl into the tent in front of her and zipped it up behind them.

Rowan came drifting over and wrapped her arms around his neck. She nuzzled him with her nose before she kissed a hot little trail down the line of his jaw. There was still streaks of mud on her cheeks, leading back into her hairline and some of it was flaking off into his beard.

Enid did have a point, besides the one on the top of her head, Daryl thought. It would be at least a half hour before those women found them. And that's if they found them at all. Daryl had seen the shocked looks on their faces when Rowan and Enid rode in on the horses. Those women clearly had no idea that Rowan and Enid were sneaking around their camp and spying on them for the entire last week. He doubted any of them were expert trackers. Or good at anything besides being crazy and mean.

"There's a little creek down behind here," Rowan mentioned. She took the little smile on Daryl's face as his agreement and started walking backwards, pulling him in the direction of the water. Since she wasn't paying attention to where she was going, she caught her foot on a rock and stumbled to the side. She would have fallen if Daryl hadn't caught her. One of his arms went under her knees and the other wrapped around her back, lifting her off the ground. She slung and arm around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder, using the other hand to point him in the direction of the creek.

The water was cold, but the day was warm. They rid themselves of their clothes and splashed into the clear water. Daryl had never been keen on bathing in general, it was more like something he did because he had to. But he found he was eager to wash the stink of that place off his body. Rowan tied her hair up on top of her head with one of her bracelets and started scooping up handfuls of the cold water to scrub the markings off her face. Some of the mud was dried on and since she didn't have a mirror, she was having a hard time getting it all off.

Daryl walked to the egde of the creek and grabbed up the torn remenants of his shirt. It was ruined anyway. He dipped the corner of it in the water and pulled Rowan into his arms. She closed her eyes and let him wipe away the little dried patches of mud that she had missed. Once it was all gone, he dropped the shirt into the water and let the current carry it away. Her eyes fluttered open. She was staring up at him, little droplets of water caught in her dark lashes. They were catching the light of the afternoon sun as it filtered down through the trees.

He covered her mouth with his. The kiss was soft at first, both of them smiling into it. But then Rowan felt his arms tighten around her. The kiss got deeper and then his tounge was sliding against hers. Tasting her. Devouring her like he was starving and she was the food. This was not how Daryl normally kissed her. This was something different. He was usually much more gentle with her, particularly since she had told him she was pregnant. Reserved. That was the word she was looking for. He kept his emotions in check. She always knew the raw need for her was there, rippling under the surface. But this was the first time he had expressed it physically.

Rowan closed her eyes and kissed him back. She let the tide of his kisses wash over her. He was already digging his fingers into her soft flesh and she only wanted him to hold her tighter. His hands moved down, gripping her ass and grinding his hips into hers. And then his hands moved lower, clasping her thighs and lifting her so her legs were wrapped around his waist. He walked, his feet sloshing through the soft sand of the creek bottom. Sand and clay sliding between his toes.

Daryl headed for the grassy spot he had seen on one side of the creek. He knelt down and shuffled forward on his knees, grass staining his skin. Rowan was wrapped around him, kissing the skin on his neck. She sucked his earlobe into her mouth and nipped at it with her teeth. The little voice inside his head that usually reminded him to be careful and gentle with her was being drowned out by the steady whoosh sound of his blood pumping in his ears. They hit the grass with him on top of her. Somewhere in his mind, Daryl registered the pain of his funny bone hitting a rock, but he ignored the sensation completely.

Her hot center was pressing into his stomach and her hips already starting to rock back in anticipation. He pulled back, one hand sliding between them to guide his hard length inside her. Pushing into her felt like heaven. Daryl knew he ought to slow down, or this was going to be over more quickly than he wanted it to be. But he felt powerless to stop himself from rolling his hips into hers over and over again.

Rowan kept her eyes shut, thinking of nothing except the spot deep inside her that was being rubbed each time Daryl thrust into her. She could usually feel her orgasms coming on, but this one hit her by surprise. He was still moving fast and hard and she almost felt paralyzed by her orgasm. Like all she could do was hang on and let her pleasure course through her. He spilled inside her with a loud moan, almost like it felt so good that it hurt a little.

Daryl flopped down on top of her, then rolled off to the side to keep from smashing her and making it so she couldn't breathe. Rowan turned, curling into his side and lying one of her palms flat in the center of his chest. She liked to feel his heartbeat. So fast at first and then it would gradually slow down as his body relaxed. His hand slid across his body, where it came to rest on the curve of her hip. Then he moved it down to feel the small hard bump below her belly button with the rough tips of his fingers.

"Didn't hurt ya did I," he asked.

"Mmmm," Rowan hummed. He took that to mean she had not been injured during their lovemaking. Really Rowan was thinking he ought to get kidnapped more often, but she had quickly decided announcing that might not be in the best of taste. Later when they were home safe, they could joke about what happened.

"Can I ask you something?," Rowan murmured.

"Ya jus' did," Daryl said, pushing on her hips so he could get a better feel on the tiny baby lump between them. Rowan giggled, reaching down to adjust his hand so he wasn't tickling her.

"Why didn't you have sex with Amanda?," she asked. That woman was crazy, but she wasn't unattractive. And she said she would let Daryl go if he had sex with her. Rowan had heard her from where she was hiding. That bitch had a voice that carried. She seemed to be the only one that enjoyed the sound of it. And it was obvious, to Rowan at least, that Amanda would become very angry if she was refused. Rowan was glad Daryl said no, but she wasn't sure she would have been so brave if she had been in his position.

"Dunno," Daryl said, "cause I didn't want to I guess." There were a lot of reasons he had refused. The number one reason being that he didn't ever want to sleep with anyone besides Rowan. Also he didn't like the feeling of being forced against his will. And he was pretty sure the whole thing had been some kind of weird trick. Even if he had done what that woman asked, he knew there was no way she was just going to let him and Carl walk out of there.

Rowan leaned up and craned her neck so she could press her lips to his. _Love you. Love you too._

"We should probably get up and get dressed," Rowan said. She was feeling all noodle bodied and really had no interest in getting up and going anywhere. But getting caught naked and unarmed by those crazy people didn't sound like a fun after sex activity either. Daryl must have felt the same, because he answered her with a disgrunted groan before forcing his body into a sitting position.

It was a good thing Daryl sat up when he did, because there was a walker heading their way. It had gotten caught up in a bush nearby, but not caught enough to hold it back forever. Daryl grabbed a larger rock from the side of the small creek and walked over to bash the monster's head in. When he turned back, Rowan was across the stream pulling her clothes back on.

"I can go get you some clean clothes from camp," she offered. Daryl shrugged his shoulders and followed after her instead of waiting by the creek. He was unwilling to let her out of his sight, even if it meant walking back to camp naked. He carried his boots, vest and very dirt crusted ripped jeans under one arm.

Enid was stocking up a small fire, getting ready to make Carl something to eat. She wrinkled her nose up at Daryl, but made no comment on his state of undress. She just gave him a nod and put another can of soup near the fire.


	15. Chapter 15

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 15

Daryl and Carl slurped their soup down so fast, Enid got another can out for them and set it near the fire to warm up. Rowan noticed how fast they were eating and grabbed them each a few pieces of dried jerky to gnaw on while they were waiting for the soup to heat. Seeing how hungry they were made her feel terrible for leaving them in that place so long. But she and Enid had been waiting for the right time to break them out. There were so many of those women. Rowan had not wanted to have a direct confrontation with them if she could avoid it. She was grateful that the confrontation she did have with them had gone as well as it did and no one had been hurt or killed.

She and Enid had tried once at night to break the guys out, but there were too many of those woman guarding the place. They had been trying to dig a few sections of the wooden fence out around the back of the enclosure, but the dogs made too much noise and walkers came. They had to run. Robin told them it would be easiest to wait until both men were let out for some sort of work duty. So that's what they had been doing. But Carl and Daryl were never let out at the same time. Not until today. And then there had been no choice expect to ride in and hope for the best. Daryl would have been killed or badly injured if they waited any longer.

As Enid was taking the third can of soup off the fire, Tank was suddenly on his feet. A low growl rumbling in his throat. The horses knew his warning growl well, and they started acting nervous, prancing and pawing at the grass. There was no discussion, everyone went for their weapons. Daryl held a finger to his lips to keep them quiet. Then he signaled to his right. The direction of the creek. Rowan cocked her head and listened quietly. She could hear it now too. The sound of a group of people stomping through the woods and stepping on every stick and crumpled leaf in sight. No wonder they had to chase horses off bridges to eat. Even Rowan knew how to be quiet in the woods. And she was not exactly a champion hunter.

Daryl nodded his head and used his hands to signal. Carl and Enid went one way. He took Rowan and circled around the other way.

Katie sighed in frustration. There was no way they were going to be able to take these people by surprise. The girls with her were tramping through the woods like a herd of wild buffalo. She kept telling them to shut the fuck up, but it wasn't helping. They just didn't know what they were doing out here. If Mandy would get her lazy ass off her throne for once and actually help, Katie wouldn't be stuck out here with untrained hunters that were too stupid to even watch where they were stepping.

Katie had Daryl's torn up shirt in her hand. She found it caught on a branch, further downstream. That was a lucky break. It was the only reason she had even gotten close to finding the people she was looking for. And she had to find them. If she came back empty handed, she was going to get worse than a tiger attack this time.

The hippie women back at camp, Mandy liked to call them the sheep, they had been acting strange after that dark haired woman and her friend showed up. Well stranger than normal anyway. It had not taken long before a few of them admitted they knew her. She was not just a stranger passing through. She must have been trying to come home. Maybe looking for lost friends or family members. She wasn't stupid like the rest of those long hairs either. Katie knew the woman must have been spying on them for a while. Long enough to learn their names and which ones of them to watch out for. She and her little friend had aimed their weapons at her and Amanda straight away. Made fools out of them.

"Your shirt," Rowan hissed. Daryl cursed under his breath. That must be how those women found them so fast. He shifted his weight. They were crouched behind a bush, both dogs crowding in next to them. Thankfully, Morgan had not started barking yet, but he wouldn't last if those women got much closer. Daryl took stock of the situation. There were five of them, and only Katie had a gun. The rest were armed with knives and pointy sticks.

"I'm going to scare them off," Daryl said. Rowan caught him by the arm before he could stand up.

"They might listen better to me," she suggested. Daryl gritted his teeth. He didn't like the idea of putting her in the line of fire. But she was right. That Katie woman had made it clear many times over what she thought of men. Maybe Rowan could reason with her. Daryl bobbed his head. Rowan leaned close and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then she stood up. She made no noise. And she was quite close to the women. They had no idea she was there. To them it seemed like she had just appeared out of thin air. The young one with the shaved head gasped and stepped back, stumbling over a stick and almost falling.

"Looking for me?," Rowan asked them, "Here I am." Enid, Carl and Daryl popped up, pointing their weapons at the intruders. Katie quickly realized she was surrounded. And badly out gunned. The boy and girl both had guns. The man had a crossbow pointed at them. And the woman had her slingshot loaded. Katie felt the urge to rub her arm again. There was a large black bruise welling up where the woman had hit her with a rock back at camp. If she had been hit any harder, it might have broken the bone in her arm. She had no desire to recieve a second helping of that.

"We... we were just hunting," Katie said. She knew it sounded lame, but it was the only thing she could think of to say.

"No horses here to chase over a bridge," Daryl said. He had his bow pointed at her head, and it was clear he was thinking about shooting her no matter what she said next.

"I think you were hunting us," Rowan added. The woman was clearly lying. She was holding Daryl's ripped shirt in her hand for goodness sake. "Maybe you should leave."

Tank chose that moment to reveal himself, pushing through the bush and baring his teeth at the woman with the mangled face. Her eyes flew open. Horses were one thing, but this dog was huge. She took a step to one side, trying to put some distance between herself and the large snarling animal, and only managed to get close to another large dog. _How many giant dogs do these people have?_ This one was white, and slightly thinner looking than the black one. But no less menacing. He was growling and when she stepped closer to him he barked and snapped his jaws at her.

"We didn't come here to fight," Katie said, her voice getting high pitched and squeaky. "This was all a big misunderstanding."

"You were going to torture me to death," Daryl reminded her, "hell of a misunderstanding."

"We thought you were stealing," Katie said, looking back and forth between the two large dogs and trying to figure out which way to move. Rowan thought about pointing out that all animals belonged to the great spirit Manitou. They had not been put on this earth for only Katie's group to hunt. But now was not really the best time for a philosopical debate.

"We didn't know you were with her," the younger girl with Katie added, pointing her finger at Rowan. She was from Twin Oaks. And while she had been part of a different community group, she remembered Rowan. Her older brother used to help the woman with her dogs sometimes. And everyone knew Rowan's mother. Her advice on spiritual matters was held in high regard. The light of recognition in Rowan's eyes as she looked at the girl became obvious. Rowan could not recall the girls name, but she had been part of a family group that moved in from the acorn a few years before the outbreak. She gave the girl a nod and called her dogs back to her.

Katie breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the women she ahd with her were not as useless as she thought.

"That's right," Katie added, "we came to apologize." She was trying to think of something else to say. And it came to her then. An idea. A wonderful terrible idea. "We came to extend our hospitality. Invite you back and show you we know the proper way to greet returning member of the community."

Rowan wrinkled up her nose at the woman. This nasty woman clearly knew nothing about her community. Because the way someone would normally be welcomed back home after a long time away was with a party. A sort of feast where everyone brought their favorite dish to pass. And there was no way this Katie woman had come up here to invite them to a party. That was just crazy.

"That's right," the young girl added, "we should have a party to welcome you home." The idea sounded appealing to the girl. It had been so long since anything fun happened.

Rowan was not so sure. Her hesitation showed plainly on her face.

"Tomorrow afternoon," Katie said, "We will understand if you don't want to come."

"Understand this," Enid hollered at the woman, displaying her middle finger. Her favorite expressive gesture. It always made Daryl grin a little. His brother had been fond of flipping the bird as well. Usually at the worst times possible.

"Alright," Daryl said, eager to wrap this little confrontation up, "Ya said yer piece, now pack it up and get yer asses outta here." Katie did not enjoy being ordered around by a man. It showed in her eyes as the good side of her face twisted up into a scowl. The other side was frozen in what almost looked like a weird joker like grin since that side of her mouth had been slashed at.


	16. Chapter 16

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 16

Daryl could feel his anger and aggravation starting to take over. He was trying his best to stay calm, but she was making _the face_ at him. Rowan's slim arms were crossed under her breasts and her eyebrows were pressed together making a little crinkle of skin between them. The corners of her mouth were downturned. It was the face that drove her father crazy when she made it at him. Rowan's father didn't yell at her often. But when he did it was always in Sioux. Daryl couldn't understand what the man was saying but he was pretty sure it broke down to _get that stubborn ass look off your face right fucking now._ It was the same look she gave Daryl when he tried to talk her into carrying a gun when she took the dogs out.

Daryl didn't often have the urge to scream at his wife. On the contrary, he normally found her to be a calming influence. But at this moment, he wanted to yell and swear at her more than he ever wanted to cuss anyone out in his entire life.

"I'm not leaving," Rowan told him again. As if the first three times she said it had not been enough.

"We are going home to get some help," Daryl told her, struggling to keep his voice from rising. _And once we get home, your fucking ass is staying there._ He would come back with Rick and some of the others and take care of business. Teach these bitches they had messed with the wrong people.

"What if Lauren has her baby before we get back?," Rowan said. Maybe it was because she was pregnant herself. Or maybe she would have felt the same way no matter what. But she couldn't bear the thought of someone hurting that girl's baby. Ripping it from her arms and taking it away. It made her sick to think about it.

Enid felt Carl squeeze her hand. They were standing by the horses. Morgan the chicken dog had run over to cower behind them. It seemed he liked watching Rowan and Daryl fight about as much as she and Carl did. Enid had to admit, seeing them argue was rather unsettling. Like watching her parents fight about how to fix the car right before they got torn to shreds by walkers.

"If we ride all night, we could make it to Alexandria by morning to bring back help," Enid said, finally unable to keep quiet any longer.

"You can't make it there that fast,"Daryl told her.

"We can if we take the highway," Carl added. He shuffled his feet while he stared down at them. He didn't mean to side with the girls over Daryl, the words just came falling out. Their plan was not the best, but it wasn't the worst one he had ever heard either. He and Enid were going to ride back for help while Rowan and Daryl stayed here and stalled for time. Like Daryl, Carl would rather they all left together, but Carl knew he and Enid could make it back in a quarter of the time if they each had a horse to ride that wasn't loaded down with supplies.

"The highway?," Daryl asked. There was a reason why they had not taken the highway on the way here. The highway was dangerous. There was no cover. Marauders and all sorts of other unsavory people liked to hang out near the highway and highjack anyone that came along. Aaron warned them to avoid it before they left. That's why they had taken the long way through the woods and on backroads to get here in the first place.

"No one will see us in the dark," Enid added. They were wasting time arguing.

Now everyone was staring at Daryl. Waiting to see what he was going to say. He chewed the skin on his thumb as he glanced around, giving each one of them their own dirty look, his blue eyes narrow and icy. This included Tank, who was sitting next to Rowan, growling quietly at Daryl anytime the man dared to raise his voice at the woman. His main concern was for Rowan's safety. But the truth was he didn't feel great about taking off and leaving those people at Amanda's mercy either.

Rowan saw the change in Daryl before he even knew he had made up his mind. The little orange lightning streaks around his head that replaced the angry looking red ones. She closed the short distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he lowered his face into her hair. Once he loosened his grip, he turned to Carl and Enid.

"If you're going, you better get yer asses movin'," he told them, "and don't stop for nothin'." Carl nodded his head, looking serious. Enid smiled. She swung her lightly packed bag onto her back and slung her rifle over her shoulder, then she swung herself up onto Molly's back. She figured she and Carl better leave now before Daryl changed his mind. Rowan drifted over and reached up to clasp Enid's hand.

"Take care of Molly for me, okay?," she told the girl. The momentary hard squeeze she gave Enid's hand said so much more. Be careful. Get home safe. Don't let anything happen to Carl. I love you like the sister I never had. Enid didn't trust herself to respond without getting emotional, so she just gave the woman a nod.

"Ready?," Carl asked her.

"Ready." Enid turned Molly in the direction of the highway and kicked her heels in. Morgan ran after his friends for a few yards. Until he realized Rowan was still back at the campsite. He stopped, unsure of which direction he wanted to go. The big white dog sat back and let out a sad howl. Then he turned around and headed back to camp.

"They know where our camp is," Daryl said as he started pulling the tent up, "we should move in case they decide to try anything." Rowan nodded. She didn't want to be caught off guard either. First Rowan kicked some dirt on the fire and then she put away the few things she had unpacked.

Instead of moving further away from the people they were hiding from, they moved closer. Daryl figured it would be an easy way to throw off anyone that was looking for them. He and Rowan moved down the hill and away from the creek that ran through this part of the woods. Getting water would be a further walk, but they would be harder for those women to find.

Daryl shoved the last tent stake into the ground and stood up. Suddenly, Rowan was in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight around his waist. She had been running on adrenaline and fear for the entire last week. And the gravity of what had happened and how close she had come to losing Daryl had hit her all at once while she was watching him set up the tent.

"I love you," she told him. Her voice was shaky. Daryl hugged her back, smiling a little before he could help himself. He saw it in her eyes and felt it in the way she touched him, but Rowan didn't often say the actual words. Not _I love you_ anyway. She usually had some more creative way of telling him her feelings. Like with a little poem or a story. He was never sure if she made that stuff up on the spot or if they were things she had read and memorized.

"Techi-hita," he told her. Daryl wasn't sure if he was saying it exactly right, but he had heard the words spoken enough times to make a good attempt. Nokake was always saying it to her baby. Rowan and her father would say it to each other. And the man would say it to his wife and she would say it back. It made Daryl happy to know his baby was going to grow up in the kind of home where people said they loved each other. Even if it was in another language.

Rowan hugged him tighter and started tilting her head back to kiss him. Even if he hadn't said it exactly right, he knew he had gotten his point across. He could tell she liked it from the soft dreamy look on her face.

"Ah!," Rowan said, making a funny little squeak noise. Daryl was immediately concerned. She sounded like she was hurt.

"Sorry, I just felt something weird," she said. She pushed her shirt up and shoved her pants down a little, lying the flat of her palm on the hard lump between her hips. "It felt like little bubbles," she said. Daryl put his hand over hers.

"Do you think the baby's okay?," he asked. He had not forgotten Lori's pregnancy. And what she said when she was afraid because the baby wasn't moving. If the baby died inside her, would it kill her from the inside out? That led Daryl to wondering if his baby would be immune to the virus, like Rowan's father. He had been bit twice. Rowan had never been bit, so it wasn't even certain if she was immune or not. Eugene and Denise had taken blood samples from Rowan and all the wolves, but they had not been able to find any answers with the limited medical research supplies they had. They thought a blood transfusion from an immune person might save someone if they were bit. But it wasn't really a theory anyone was eager to test out.

"I think the baby's fine," she said, "maybe I'm just hungry." Really she was thinking that maybe she just had gas. Another lovely and not so romantic side affect of being pregnant. She liked her big breasts better than her sensitive stomach. That was for sure.

"Sit down," Daryl told her, leading her over to what looked like a softer patch of grass where she could lean against her backpack. "I'll make you something." Rowan felt fine, but she let him lead her over and sit her down anyway. When he stood back up she reached a hand up his pantleg, rubbing her fingers over the hard muscle of his calf.

"Maybe you should go hunting...," she suggested. Rowan had a funny look on her face, like she was thinking something that wasn't nice. A sly little smile. Which was unusual for her. She only looked like that when she was thinking about playing a trick on someone. The someone was usually Spencer. The two of them had become involved in some sort ongoing prank war ever since the day they had thrown the pickles at each other. Daryl did his best to stay the hell out of that mess.

"Huntin'?," he asked. They had plenty of food for the two of them.

"Well it would be rude to show up to the party empty handed," she said, the grin on her face getting a little wider.


	17. Chapter 17

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 17

Daryl watched Rowan toss the last chunks of dried meat into the large pot she had suspended over the fire. The time he had recently spent hungry had made him acutely aware of their food supply. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He could always go hunting. And they were not that far from home. Where they had plenty of food. A whole community garden full. Plus their own garden, which now took up their entire backyard. They were not going to starve if Rowan made soup out of the rest of the dried meat in her bag.

Rowan waited until the pot started to bubble, then she moved it carefully away from the fire and put the lid on. It could simmer slowly all night and in the morning she would have a thick stew full of venison and tender wild turkey meat from the bird Daryl got on his short hunting trip. It was important to her to bring enough food for the people of the camp. Not just because she knew some of them were very hungry. But also because she wanted to teach them a lesson.

She was trying to prove a point. What could be accomplished if they worked together instead of against each other. It was their own fault they didn't have enough food. Those women wasted far too much energy guarding people that were locked in a cage. And the people in the cage were forced to sit around and do nothing. They could not contribute to the community. It was such a waste of time and energy.

At the very end of winter, food sometimes got scarce. Even before the outbreak. But this was springtime. Almost into summer. There was no reason for anyone to be hungry now. Why if any of them even bothered to check, Rowan knew there were gardens full of strawberries just one housing group over that she would be ripe this time of year. Instead of picking fruit, they were worried about keeping men and little crippled children locked up. Rowan pushed the thoughts of the little children from her mind. Thinking about them made her angry and upset.

The sun was getting low in the sky. It wasn't dark yet, so much as it just was not as light anymore. Rowan sunk down next to Daryl and rested her head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulder. She closed her eyes and thought about Carl and Enid, trying to see if she could get a sense of where they were or how they were doing. She could see both their faces. Long enough to know they were unharmed and alive. But the images were quickly drowned out by the roaring in her ears. Rowan was not expert on engines. But she had ridden with Daryl enough times to know what a motorcycle sounded like. The roaring she heard sounded like a whole pack of motorcycles purring at once.

When Rowan opened her eyes, it was pitch black out. She was lying on the cold ground beside the dying fire. Daryl was gone. She could feel the panic rising in her chest. Tank and Morgan were on the other side of the small campsite growling at something. In the pale moonlight, they reminded her of the little ceramic dog shaped salt and pepper shakers that Olivia had given her and Daryl as a wedding present. Without realizing that she had climbed to her feet, Rowan found herself standing between the two dogs. Barefoot with her hair whipping around her face.

The dogs stopped their barking, sitting still as stone. In the clearing ahead Rowan saw her spirit guide. The huge black wolf that spoke to her in her mother's voice. Except this time it wasn't speaking to her. It was lying dead on the ground. A trickle of shiny red blood that sparkled like the ring on her finger ran from it's mouth. Like liquid diamonds. Leaning over it was the big black and orange cat she had seen back at the women's camp.

She knew what the cat was. The name for the animal was hovering on the tip of her tounge. Rowan had seen one the time her father had taken her to that strange place where the people that lived there all dressed the same and had many different animals locked up in cages. After Rowan climbed in with the elephants and the people that owned them had to come and get her out, her father had taken her by her little freckled hand and drug her all the way out to his old beat up pickup truck and driven her home. Scolding her in sioux the entire way. _I only turned my back for a minute. What were you thinking Rowan?_ She had been thinking that while her father was laughing with that pretty lady with the long blonde hair, she was going to ride herself an elephant. Just like Tarzan rode Tantor in her book, Tarzan of the Apes. _Don't you dare tell your mother about this._

But before the elephants, Rowan had seen the big cats. Pacing back and forth in their tiny cement boxes. She had pressed her little pug nose to the glass and stared at the big orange and black one. It had come close to the glass and stared back at her with it's wide green and gold eyes. It had big sharp teeth and lon pink tounge. But she was not afraid. Her father had leaned in close and whispered into her ear, telling her what it was. A tiger.

The crystal necklace her spirit guide wore was crushed under the tiger's massive paws. And on top of the it's shoulder Rowan saw the one eyed raven. But before it could open it's beak to speak to her over the loud roar of the motorcycles, she heard another voice.

"Rowan, wake up! Rowan, it's just a dream." Daryl's voice. It cut through the roaring motorcycle engines. Then she felt his hands on her shoulders. Shaking her gently to try and wake her.

The last thing she remembered was making soup. Now it was pitch black and she could tell from the stuffy feel of the air around her that she was in their small tent. He must have carried her in after she fell asleep by the fire. And taken her jeans off so she would be comfortable while she slept.

"I'm awake," she said, her hand coming up to grab one of his wrists. Daryl fumbled for the small lantern and flipped it on. Rowan shoved the covers off and pushed her hair out of her face. She was drenched in sweat and her heart was thumping hard in her chest.

"You alright?," Daryl asked her. She nodded, even though she wasn't sure how she felt. The small lantern cast ghostly shadows on Daryl's face and for a moment, she thought she was still trapped in her nightmare.

"You were screamin' in yer sleep." He leaned forward, cupping her face with one hand, the rough pad of his thumb brushing back and forth across her face.

"What were ya dreamin' about?" He didn't ask the question out of curiosity alone. Daryl noticed everything. And it had not escaped his attention that Rowan had been dreaming about crying children the whole way here. Then he had run into two children that had been hurt and tortured and were no being slowly starved to death. It seemed like a pretty big coincidence. After the whole Knight of Wands turning out to be Morgan thing, Daryl found himself believing in things he might have laughed at before the turn. Not anything too crazy. Rowan's father described her as just being more sensitive than other people. That made it sound less like magic and more like something Daryl could except as a normal part of his strange new life.

"I was dreaming about the time my dad took me to the zoo," Rowan explained. That was not the whole truth. But it wasn't a lie either. She could feel her breathing returning to normal. Since she had gotten pregnant, her dreams had become more and more scattered and intense. She wasn't even sure what they meant anymore. The raven always came to warn her about something. But the tiger. Had it worked it's way into her dream because those women had one tied up at their camp. Or did the big cat have another meaning? Big cats in a dream often represented a fight against a tyrant, or some other sort of unjust ruler. But dream symbols are different for everyone.

"Musta been one hell of a zoo trip," Daryl said. The shadows on his face shifted as he raised his eyebrows at her. She knew what he said was Daryl's polite way of telling her that he didn't believe what she said. Rowan let out a sigh and smiled a little. Daryl could always tell when she was lying. He was like her father in that way.

Rowan flopped back down on the sleeping bag, grateful that her heartbeat was returning to normal. She held her arms out for Daryl. She wanted to be held. Chase the last bits of her dream away. He leaned over to flip the light back off and then lay down in her arms. His head was resting against her breasts and she stroked her hands over his hair. Twisting pieces of it between her fingers. Twining a long strand around the first knuckle were her tattoos circled her finger.

"Not going ta tell me what the dream was really 'bout then?," he asked. Her chest rose and fell with a long slow breath.

"I saw the raven," Rowan told him, her voice quiet and dreamy now. She was wearing the oversized t shirt she slept in and nothing else. And her heart was starting to beat harder again for another reason. She could feel Daryl's breath through her shirt. Ghosting across the sensitive skin of her breasts. And the weight of his hand on her hip, sliding down and then back up without her shirt between her skin and his.

"What'd he tell ya," Daryl asked. Rowan had told him about the raven before. Cassandra's bird, she called it. After the greek myth. The bird came to warn her of the future, but sometimes she woke up unable to remember what it said.

"You woke me up before he could tell me what he wanted." Her words were coming out in hot panting breaths now. She bent one knee, giving him access to the soft skin on the inside of her thigh.

"Next time he comes back," Daryl said, his mouth sliding lower, kissing and breathing on her belly through the thin cotton fabric of her shirt, "Ya outta shoot that damn bird and cook 'im." Rowan giggled at the mental image of Daryl shooting and cooking the one eyed raven with his bow. Freezing time and stopping the future from coming. When they got back home, maybe she would make up a story about it.

Her giggle turned into a low moan that caught in her throat. Daryl's hand moved further up her thigh, his thumb finding the sensitive spot above her opening. She felt his breath. And then the wet flick of his tounge, replacing his thumb before he shifted the postion of his hand and slid the tip of one thick finger inside her. _Missed you._ What he was doing felt so good, she wasn't sure if he had the words out loud or if she had plucked it from his mind without meaning to.

Her hands that had been mindlessly twirling his hair a moment before, fisted into it now. Pulling gently at the roots. He slid his finger out and added a second one. Moving them in and out until he felt her walls close in and flutter around him. _Missed you too. I know it was only a week but it felt like longer. So much longer._ His fingers slid out of her and then his hands gripped her hips. She let his hair slide out of her grasp as he lifted his head up. A few stray hairs caught on her ring and hung there.

"Don't wanna put too much weight on ya," he rasped, "flip over baby." She rolled, letting him guide her body with his hands. Once she was on her stomach, she felt him pull her hips up until she was on her knees. The last spasms of her orgasm were still pulsing through her body, making her arms and legs feel weak and shaky. She locked her elbows to keep from flopping down onto her face. He was sliding closer to her, nudging her knees apart. His hands roamed over her, like he was using them to see her body in the dark.

She felt his finger first, then the tip of his hard length pressing against her opening. As he pushed in, he pulled back on her hips. She gasped, feeling the amazing stretching sensation inside her that always happened when he first pushed in.

"Y'alright," he asked. Rowan nodded her head. Then realized he couldn't see her in the dark.

"Don't stop," she murmured. To make sure he knew she meant it, she arched her lower back, pushing him just a little deeper inside her. That must have broke through the last bit of his self control, because he started moving. Slow at first, but finishing each thrust with a hard pump. Then faster. Her head fell forward, her hair falling down of either side of her face like a curtain. She could feel the swing and jiggle of her breasts as he moved, his hips slapping against the round curve of her ass in his attempt to get as deep inside her as possible.

The postion was not new to them, over the long and rather boring winter they had done some experimenting. But they both usually preferred being able to look at one another. Rowan decided they had been a little hasty about that. This felt better than great. He was rubbing hard against the spot inside her that always put her over the edge. Rubbing hard against it. She was ready for her climax when it came and she found herself fighting for control over her own body. Her legs and arms wanted to buckle. She felt like she was melting.

Daryl's hands dug into her hips. And then she felt the soft rush of warmth that always came when he spilled inside her. He usually came with a moaning grunt, but this time he was silent as he finished off with a few more gentle pumps into her. Once she felt him slide out of her, Rowan collapsed on the sleeping bag. She was glad it was dark in the tent, because she doubted she looked very sexy flopped there like fish out of water. Daryl cuddled in behind her and held her close.

They must not have been as quiet and Rowan thought they were. Because the next thing she knew, Tank was shoving his large body inside the tent. She could hear the little whosh sounds of his nails on the synthetic fabric of the tent floor. He turned himself around in a circle and then settled down next to Rowan. Daryl's hand lifted from her hip and she felt him lean over her to give the big dog a friendly scratch behind the ears. With the body heat of her dog on one side, and the heat from her man on the other, Rowan drifted into a much more peaceful sleep. One where tigers and ravens did not exist.


	18. Chapter 18

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 18

 **** Thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. I am getting ready to wrap up this section of the story and will start adding some cannon events back in after that, some from the show and some from the comics. I promise the storyline and characters from this first part of the story will end up being important later on. As always read, enjoy and review. I own nothing from TWD only Rowan and my other OCs. ****

Katie was gritting her teeth while Amanda laid into her. Amanda was pissed that Katie had not been able to bring those people back that had gotten away from them the day before. She was calling her useless, stupid, fat and lazy, among other things. Katie had returned to their campsite last night. After it was dark. But they had all already been long gone. She told Amanda those people were not stupid enough to stay there. They were probably long gone from this entire area by now. That's where Katie would be if she was them.

Katie hoped Amanda would let this go. There was no point in continuing to harp on it. It was just making her look crazy and obsessed. The vein in the middle of her forehead looked ready to pop. And her ranting was giving Katie a massive headache. She got bad migraines in what used to be the temple area on the bad side of her face.

Suddenly Amanda stopped her ranting and raving. Her eyes flew open. First wide with shock. And then they narrowed back down. Her tounge flicked out to wet her lips. One of the other women, one of the long hairs, was walking out of Amanda's lodge with a basket of laundry. She stopped on the top step and dropped the basket. It tumbled down the steps, spilling clothes and blankets everywhere. Katie turned around to see what they were both looking at.

A few people had managed to escape. But none had ever come back. Not willingly anyway. But there they were. Not all of them. Just the woman with the long black hair and the man with the arms. They were holding what looked like food for the party and chatting away with Robin like they didn't have a care in the world. _Where in the hell did they even come from?_ Like the day before when that woman had surprised her, Katie had the feeling she had just materialized out of thin air. Maybe she was some kind of witch.

Rowan noticed Katie and Amanda were staring at her with shocked looks on their faces. She fought back a smile. Then she changed her mind and gave them both her biggest and prettiest smile. She headed straight in their direction. Daryl shoved the food he was holding at Robin and followed Rowan, his hand fingering the gun on his hip. Rowan walked over and handed the big bowl of soup she was holding to Katie.

The woman fumbled a little, but managed to hold onto the bowl without spilling it. Katie didn't know what was in the bowl. There was a towel over the top. But it smelled like heaven. It made her think about her grandma's good home cooking. Her mouth started to water. It had so long since she had eaten anything that was well cooked and properly seasoned. Next Rowan swung her bag down off her back and pulled out a large mesh bag full of strawberries. She set those on the bottom step near Katie's feet.

"For the party," Rowan told the women. The party it looked like they had not been planning on even having. Rowan was enjoying seeing these women caught off guard. Katie looked almost embarrassed. But Amanda was eyeing Daryl. She did not like that. Not at all.

"Who's the other bowl for?," Amanda asked. The one that the man had placed in Robin's hands looked like it was full of more soup.

"For the men in the holding," Rowan told her. The look on the woman's face was priceless. She stuttered and stammered a little. Rowan could tell Amanda did not want to give this food to those men. But she was having a hard time coming up with a reason why. Also by this time there were a lot of women crowding around staring at her. Curious to see what was going to happen.

"I thought you were the leader of this _entire_ camp...," Rowan said. "Or is there someone else I need to speak to about giving those men this food?" Daryl bit his lip. He wanted to laugh. But then he saw the crazed gleam in Amanda's eyes. Rowan had just made a terrible mistake making her feel stupid.

Amanda got control of herself. She shrugged like she could care less what this strange woman fed those men. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she told Katie to go open the gate to the pen. Katie shoved the soup at the woman that had dropped the laundry. For a moment she thought about dumping it on Amanda. But there was no sense in wasting good food like that.

Katie stomped over and opened up the gate.

"They will be needing some bowls and spoons," Rowan told her, taking the bowl of soup from Robin's hands. Before Katie could object, one of the girls spoke up and dashed off to go get some. Katie slid the lock on the gate back and swung it open. She expected the dark haired woman to set the bowl down inside the entrance. Or hand it off to someone. But instead she walked right into the pen.

Daryl felt himself gasp. There was nothing on earth that would make him go back inside that gate. And he was terrified for a moment that the door would be slammed shut with Rowan inside. That didn't happen though. Rowan walked in, looking for someone to hand the food off to. She didn't want to just set it on the ground like she was feeding her dogs. But none of the men stepped forward to take the food. They just stood still, staring at their feet like she wasn't even standing there.

Finally an older man came forward. He was dark skinned with long white hair and he was walking with a crutch. But she could see the strength in his eyes. He held out his hands and took the bowl. It was heavier than he expected. Rowan saw the man's face change. He gave her a knowing look.

"Thank you," he told her. She gave him a nod.

Rowan looked around this place, not even trying to hide her shock or disgust. She had grown up around people that did not wear deodorant. So she was more used to normal human body smells than the average person. But the smell inside this wooden prison was something else. It was the smell of sickness and neglect. Of human waste left to fester. And of people that were slowly dying. The auras around the heads of all these men were pale and grey. Like there was barely any life left in them at all.

Rowan spotted the littlest prisoner in the place. Daryl had told her there were kids in locked up in this place, but she had expected them to bo Carl's age at least. This poor baby could not be more than 8 or 9 at the oldest. And he was so skinny. Instead of the white light that should surround a child that age, a dark cloud hovered around his head. So dark gray it was close to black. He was dying. Leaning there against the fence like it was the only thing holding him up. His big empty eyes following the bowl of soup the older man had in his hands.

Taking care of where she was stepping, Rowan headed for the boy. He looked afraid, but made no move to try and get away from her. When she got closer she could see why. There was something wrong with his legs. She held a wrist to his clammy forehead first, feeling to make sure he didn't have a fever. Then she picked him up, balancing him on her hip that she didn't have her knife and slingshot fastened to. Carrying him like he was a toddler. He weighed no more than her baby brother. The boy stiffened up at first, but then Rowan felt his skinny little arms go around her neck.

Rowan could feel her anger. Fueling her on like train. Gone was the carefully considered plan she and Daryl had made. She could not stand for this one moment longer. Katie saw the woman coming, Troy hanging off her hip like a baby. Katie tried not to look at the young ones most of the time. But now she was faced with the horror she had done. The woman with the black hair was heading straight for her.

"Where is this child's mother?," Rowan asked. She got right up in Katie's face, staring her down. When Katie didn't answer, Rowan looked around at the other women. There were quite a few of her people crowded around. And it was one of them that spoke up. An older black women. Lauren's mother.

"Dead because she didn't want to go along with Amanda's ideas of how the men should be treated," she said. A murmur of quiet voices rumbled through the crowd. Rowan nodded her thanks to the woman. She was brave to speak out like that. Rowan pushed through the small crowd, heading for the woman. The woman seemed to sense what she wanted and she held her hands out for the boy.

"I'll take him to my place," the woman said, "get him cleaned up a little. The rest she left unsaid. I can watch him until this is over. Because one way or another, it would be over before the day was done.


	19. Chapter 19

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 19

The party was strained and awkward. But Rowan was glad to see that at least these people were getting something to eat. She stuck close to Daryl's side, even hooking her pinky finger into the pocket of his pants to keep him even closer. He kept one hand on the strap of his bow and the other pressed gently to her lower back.

Aside from the food Rowan and Daryl brought, some meat had been provided and cooked on skewers over a small fire. It didn't smell bad, but the thought of what it was made Rowan sick. She could never eat horse. It would be like eating one of her dogs. Aside from the meat, a few large pitchers of something that smelled fermented had been placed in the table. Rowan steered clear of that drink, since she wasn't sure how strong it was. She wanted to keep a clear head for the confrontation that she knew was coming.

Amanda, on the other hand, was drinking quite a lot. She was sitting on the top step of her lodge, up above everyone like a queen on her throne. Rowan had been keeping a close eye on the so called leader of this group as she spoke a little with some of the other women. Amanda was on her fourth drink. Which seemed like it might have been about one too many because she was starting to get loud and insulting to the people around her. Even the ones that Rowan knew the woman was closest with. She made a nasty remark about the marks on Katie's face and Rowan saw the woman cringe as her body tensed up.

They had what Daryl called a battle plan. But Rowan had still been hopeful that she might be able to talk sense to the leader of this camp. But it was becoming more and more clear to her that no negotiations were going to happen here today. Amanda wasn't just angry or confused. She was totally delusional. Her aura hung around her like a pointed cone. Mottled colors that were mixed together in a disorganized pattern of browns and a sickening reddish green. There was something broken inside her, Rowan could see it now. Hate had eaten her alive and left nothing but an empty shell of a person behind.

Amanda tilted her cup back and then hollered at one of the women to bring her another drink. Rowan found this very rude. That woman's legs weren't broke. She ought to get her drunk butt up and get her own drink instead of making people wait in her like a slave. As Rowan watched her, she thought about Deanna. Comparing the two women in her mind. When Deanna had a party, she went out of her way to make everyone comfortable. Getting drinks for them and offering them food. She never felt the need to boss people around or assert her dominance over them. Rowan didn't always agree with everything the woman did. But Deanna was a good leader. She took care of her people like they were her own children. Amanda treated these people like they were her personal slaves.

"Hey!," Amanda hollered. Since she was gesturing in Rowan's general direction, Rowan assumed the woman was talking to her. "Come have a drink with me." Rowan felt Daryl's hand fist into the back of her shirt. He gave a subtle shake of his head. Robin warned them not to take anything to eat or drink from Amanda. She was afraid the woman was going to try and poison them.

Rowan walked over, pausing at the bottom of the steps but being mindful to stay out of arms reach. Amanda waved another woman over, and she held out a drink for Rowan to take. But Rowan shook her head and waved the woman away.

"No thank you. I'm not thirsty right now," she said. Amanda laughed. She took another swig off her own drink, sloshing a little bit out of her cup and down the front of her. Rowan was hoping the woman might get even drunker and maybe pass out. She had seen Katie's face when she carried that little boy out of the holding. Katie was not as crazy as her sister. Rowan thought there was a chance she might be able to talk to her and end this without further incident if Amanda was out of the picture.

Amanda turned her hateful gaze towards Daryl. Staring at him until he started to feel uncomfortable. He had not gone up to the bottom of the steps with Rowan, choosing to stay a little further back where he could keep his eye on the rest of the women. Katie in particular. She was over by the side of the porch steps. Just out of range of the large cat they kept chained up over there. Something seemed off about her. He couldn't put his finger on it but he knew she was up to something. His hand went to his gun. Just resting on it for now. But he was ready.

"Why do you tie yourself to that man?," Amanda asked Rowan, gesturing towards Daryl with a dismissive wave. "Are you too weak to be alone?" Rowan had made her look foolish in front of her people. And before she killed the woman Amanda intended to repay the favor.

"I may be weak. But through weakness comes true strength. The strength to find love and purpose," Rowan shot back. The other woman's words didn't bother her. She knew loving Daryl didn't make her weak. There was a strength in love that this woman would clearly never allow herself to understand.

Amanda's face twisted into a scowl. The conversation was not going as she thought it would. She was growing tired of this woman and her clever wit.

"Whatever you stupid little bitch," Amanda mumbled. Then suddenly she was on her feet, the cup discarded into the bushes next to her. She was not weaving or stumbling. In fact she seemed to be in complete control of herself. Rowan's eyes flew open as she realized what was going on. This woman wasn't drunk at all. That had all been an act to lure Rowan in close enough for this woman to get ahold of her. Amanda leaped down from the top step and pushed Rowan down. She landed on the ground, her hip slamming down painfully against the hard packed dirt.

Rowan expected the woman to come at her again, maybe kick her or try to fight her. But she darted around the side of the steps instead. Retrieving a large bucket, Amanda gripped it with one hand underneath and one on the lip, tossing it's contents over Rowan before she knew what was happening. The liquid was thick and sloppy. It was in her eyes and mouth and all over her hands as she tried to wipe it away. The smell, she knew it well. It was the smell of fear and pain. The smell of dying and suffering. She was covered in blood.

Daryl saw what was going on but before he had a chance to react, there was a knife at his throat and several women surrounding him with spears. One grabbed his gun from the holster and held it on him. Rowan was on the ground covered in blood. The stuff was in her face, all over her clothes and hair. She was wiping at her eyes and he could tell she couldn't see. Amanda marched forward and kicked her. Hard in the gut. Rowan doubled forward, her hands around her middle. He expected the woman to go for Rowan again, but instead she turned and scrambled back up onto the porch in a hurry.

Katie darted in, way too close where the tiger was tied up at. Daryl heard the jingle of a chain. A loud hiss from the big cat. Then Katie was running, hauling her ass around to the other side of the porch away from the angry animal. Daryl knew then what she had done. They planned all this. She had let the fucking tiger loose. And Rowan was right in front of it, covered in bloody slop. Daryl didn't care anymore if these woman had knives and a gun pointed at him. He started fighting.

Rowan swallowed her nausea and whipped her shirt off, using the back of it to wipe her eyes so she could see. When she opened them she was face to face with the half starved tiger that these women kept chained up next to the porch. She screamed. A loud peircing sound that backed the cat up a few inches. Rowan's first thought, other than sheer mindless terrror, was that maybe she had just rolled too close to where the tiger was kept. She used her hands and feet, pushing herself backwards through the muddy puddle around her. But the cat kept coming. Amanda had turned it loose on her.

The cat hissed and swiped at her, long razor sharp hooked claws reaching for her flesh. Rowan managed to dodge back out of the way. The cat hissed again. It's haunches were wiggling and it's tail was twitching. The cat was going to pounce on her. And when it did, it was going to kill her and eat her. Everything slowed down in that moment and she saw all the things she was going to miss out on flash before her eyes. Her baby, growing strong inside her until she was big enough to come out and be held close in her arms. Their community growing strong around them. And Daryl. His eyes and his hands. The peaceful look on his face when he slept.

Rowan heard the low growl from beside her. Not the big cat this time. It was Tank. Moving in close until he was almost on top of her. Morgan appeared on her other side, silent but with lips pulled back to show his teeth. She had given them the signal to stay hidden behind Robin's cabin. But they must have heard her scream. Rowan shoved with her feet, scooting back on her butt so the dogs could place themselves between her and the tiger.

She heard a commotion to her right. Daryl was fighting with a woman. A few of them were already on the ground around him. One looked like her nose was badly broken. He was wrestling with the last one, trying to get his gun back from her. It fired off into the air as he grabbed for it.

The loud bang was like a catalyst. A spark that set everything aroud them on fire. The tiger lunged for Tank and the two animals locked into each other in a flurry of orange and black fur. Rowan looked up and saw Amanda had a gun pointed at Morgan. She scrambled to her feet, preparing to charge the woman. But before she could move, a gunshot rang out. For a moment Rowan was afraid her dog had been shot. But Amanda was the one slumping to the ground, blood seeping from a bullethole in the center of her forehead.

Rowan felt a thin set of arms go around her waist. She started to panic, but a soothing voice came from behind her.

"It's alright." One of the men from the pen had ahold of her, but he was only trying to pull her away from the figthing animals. Once they were back, he let her go. Ezekiel was next to her with the gun she and Daryl had hidden in a ziplock bag down inside the soup bowl. He was the one that shot Amanada.

Now he had his gun trained on the fighting animals. So did Daryl, but it was going to be hard to get a shot with them locked into each other. Rowan started to cry. Tank was a big dog, but he was no match for the claws of a half starved desperate tiger. There was blood smeared on the tiger's fur, and Rowan knew most of it was his. He was losing the fight, yelping as the tiger's claws ripped into his side.

Rowan heard voices. Calling her name. Calling for Daryl. She was sure she was losing her mind, because it sounded like her father and Daryl's friend Rick. Then she felt a low rumble. A sound she had heard plenty of times back in Alexandria. The pounding of so many paws hitting the ground at once. Lily rushed around the corner first, running so fast that dirt was kicking out behind her back paws. She was followed closely by two of her pups. The black dogs that had been given to Spencer and Rick. The three of them rolled over that tiger like a tidal wave. Nothing but teeth and orange fur flying. Lily ran that tiger out of there like a scared little kitten with it's tail tucked between it's legs. Just for good measure she chased the big cat to the edge of town and barked at it while it slunk away.

There was a loud feline yowl and then the sound of gunshots rang out from the direction the dogs had come from. Rowan ran for Tank, dropping down to her knees by his side. He looked up at her and gave a little whine. His tail was thumping against the ground so Rowan knew he was going to be alright. The scratches were not that deep.

Amanda was dead, but some of her followers were still standing. Katie was at the bottom of the stairs when the crowd of angry men from inside the pen started to close in on her. They had rocks and sharpened bones in their hands. Some even had broken pieces of the wood from the fence that had kept them prisoners all this time. Rowan sucked in her breath. They were going to beat that woman to death if someone didn't stop them. It would be one thing if she was still threatening them, but she was staring at Amanda's dead body with her hands up. Two more of the girls from her group were on the steps above her. A couple of the younger ones that had only stood and stared during the fight.

Rowan scrambled to her feet and grabbed Lily's collar. She pulled the dog with her, shoving through the crowd of angry men to get between them and Katie. One man screamed for Rowan to get out of their way. He was pushing in close, but Lily backed him up. Barking and growling.

"Calm down," Rowan hollered at the men.

"They deserve to die for what they did to us," the man yelled back. The young girl with the shaved head was on the steps behind Rowan and Katie. She hollered back at him.

"I just wanted to learn to hunt," she said, "I was hungry!" Tears were spilling down her cheeks. The man nodded. That girl had never done anything to any of them. But Katie was a different story. That bitch had to go.

"That's fine," he yelled. Then he pointed his finger at Katie. "But she needs to fucking pay for what she did!" The man looked ready to shove past Rowan and her dog to get at Katie, so Daryl pushed his way through and slammed into the man's chest with his hands..

"Back the fuck away from my wife," he hollered.

By this time, most of the rescue crew from Alexandria was starting to gather around in the area. Daryl saw Rowan's dad, Rick, Enid and Carl, Spencer, Aaron and Abraham. They looked confused, like they were trying to figure out what in the hell was going on. Thankfully, Ezekiel weaved through his own men and took up shop in front of Daryl and Rowan before the situation took a turn for the worse. He spoke to the man that had been pushing towards Katie.

"You're right," he said, "she does need to pay. But not with her life." Rowan heard the woman sigh behind audibly behind her. Ezekiel chose his next words carefully. "There are two young boys involved in all this. Boys that now lack the ability to run or even walk well. They are going to need someone to take care of them." He turned around and looked at Katie. She nodded. Those boys hated her, but she could still make sure they had warm clothes and enough to eat.

Robin stepped forward, clearing her throat to get everyone's attention. People seemed more than happy to put all the blame for all of this on Katie and Amanda. But they had all played a part in the horror that had overcome this community.

"It's easy to push the blame onto Amanda," Robin said. Rowan noticed she was holding her crystal necklace in her hand as she spoke. It brought images of Rowan's mother to her mind. When she had been wishing or praying on something, her mother always held her crystal in her hand. The way Robin was holding hers now. It led an aura of importance and significance to her words. "One person can be strong. But two or five or ten people are always stronger. This did not happen because of Amanda. Or Katie. This happened because we let it happen. Those boys are the chosen of Gaia now. It is up to all of us to take care of them. And above all else we have to start taking care of each other."

 **** This chapter included a quote from Jeremy Limn. "I can be weak, but through weakness comes true strength. The strength to find love and purpose."**


	20. Chapter 20

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 20

 **** So the other day I was working on this update when out my window I saw the real Lily (my neighbor's dog) had escaped again and headed straight for my yard to start digging in one of my gardens. The holes that dog digs are not exactly small. I captured the naughty beast before any real damage was done and marched her back home. When I got there my neighbor thanked me and let me know that her dog is dying of bladder cancer and won't be with us too much longer. I was so sad I immediately forgave her for all the times she hopped the fence and crapped in my yard. I know this is just fanfic, but I am still glad she will get to live on as a part of these stories after she goes. As always big thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review.****

The tension around the small camp settled down after Robin said what she felt everyone needed to hear. The men from the pen reunited with their families. Rowan was happy to see so many people hugging and kissing each other all at once. Daryl pulled her into his arms, not caring one bit that she was still covered head to toe in filthy slop. They were safe, but he was still afraid for the baby. He had seen how hard Amanda kicked Rowan once she had her on the ground. He knew there was nothing that could be done about it now. But he would be happy once they got back to Alexandria and someone with some sort of medical knowledge could take a look at her.

"Hey Roe, what in the holy dick hell happened to you," Abraham asked, sautering over with his fingers hooked into his belt loops. "You look like Carrie after the prom." Rowan thought about his comment. Then her eyes lit up. She actually knew what he was talking about for once.

"I think I read that book," she told him. That made him laugh. Abraham's laughter was always loud and proud and unapologetic. Several people stopped what they were doing and turned to see what was so funny. Then another noise caught their attention. Lauren dropped to her knees, holding her swollen stomach. Her mother was leaning down, trying to help her up.

"She's in labor," her mother yelled out. She guessed her daughter had been in the early stages of labor since sometime last night. Lauren was afraid, and didn't want anyone to know. She had been hoping maybe she could have her baby in her cabin and no one would find out. If it was a boy, she was going to try and run away with him.

Aaron and Rick rushed over. They helped the girl to her feet but she couldn't stay on her feet. Rick picked her up and carried her. Robin ran ahead, showing him where to take her. Rowan expected her to take Lauren back to her cabin, but instead she led the man up inside Amanda's lodge. The windows were thrown open to let in the fresh air. Rowan knew this lodge. It used to serve as the community center. People gathered here to work on crafts and play games together. She understood what Robin was doing. Lauren having her baby here would give this place a fresh start. It would not be thought of as Amanda's place anymore.

Katie disappeared. Rowan wasn't sure where she went. But when the woman came back, she had a white sheet in her arms. She headed to the top of the steps and laid it out, then rolled her sister's body onto it and wrapped her up. Rowan watched the woman. She was already sweaty with her efforts, but she looked determined. Spencer glanced up, looking like he wanted to help but wasn't sure if his assistance would be welcome. He hesitated at the bottom of the steps, but then walked up.

He said nothing to Katie, he just leaned down and picked up the foot end of the bundle to help her down the stairs with it. She took his help until they got Amanda down to the camp's burial site. Then she thanked him and asked him to leave. While Lauren labored to bring her baby into the world, Katie buried Amanda. She didn't cry until after she shoveled the last bit of dirt on top. Then she broke down sobbing. Crying for the sister that had become lost to her long before this day. And crying for all the things she had done, both out of anger and to try and make Amanda love her again.

She knelt by her sister's fresh grave and cried into her hands, only one side of her face watering since the eye on the other side no longer worked right. She cried for a long time. Over things that she had refused to let herself think about since they happened. She cried for her niece that was buried only one grave away from her mother. And she cried for the son and husband she had lost. She cried until she felt empty inside. Katie slid her hands into the soft dirt, squeezing it into balls in her fists. More than anything she wanted to be dead in that grave next to her sister. That was what she deserved for all that she had done.

When she looked up, a strange man was standing there. She recognized him as one of the men that had come in with Rowan and Daryl's group. He had the same long black hair as Rowan, only streaked with white around his face. Katie guessed they were probably related. Men still made her a little nervous. But this one did not try to touch her. Instead he lowered himself down next to her and sat crosslegged in the loose dirt next to Amanda's grave.

The man started talking to her. Telling Katie a story that began at this very camp and ended with almost all his people dead. He had a way of talking that made her see the things he described like they were happening right in front of her. Some of the things he told her made even Katie sick. He had killed. Whole camps full of people. Men, women, even the children. He told her he saw their faces every night in his dreams. Some of the things he had done he regretted and some of it he didn't. He became so consumed with anger that his own daughter ran away from him, just like Amanda's daughter had run away from her.

Then the story changed. He found his daughter and earned her forgiveness. His wife had a new baby. And now his daughter had been blessed as well. They all lived together in a house that was full of life and laughter. He had found peace. And happiness.

"You're lying," Katie said. There was no peace left in this world to find. Not for her anyway. The man just smiled and rose to his feet. He extended his hand down to Katie.

"Time to go back," he told her, "you won't find your peace if you don't look for it." Katie nodded her head and reached for his hand. They walked back to camp together. And with every step she took, she felt a little bit better.

TWD

Rowan dunked her head under the water again. She grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed at her scalp, trying to rid herself of the smell of the blood. The horrible junk was everywhere, even under her fingernails. She splashed some water at Lily and Morgan, avoiding Tank since his head was wrapped up in a roll of gauze. He looked like someone's little old granny. A miserable old granny with his head on his paws. She tried not to laugh at him.

Rowan knew as soon as she turned her back Tank was going to rip off all his carefully applied bandages. Right now he was sitting with Daryl. The man was softly stroking him. Rowan smiled. Daryl was even talking to the dog a little, and he usually never did that. Telling him he was going to get a deer when they got back and cook up a special venison steak and chicken liver dinner just for him and Lily. None for Morgan, since all that chicken shit dog did was bark at the tiger and stand there while poor Tank was getting his ass handed to him.

"He's just a puppy," Rowan called over, feeling the need to defend the much younger dog. Tank had been a puppy once too before he grew into the formidable beast he was today.

"Aren't you clean enough yet?," Daryl asked. He felt like he had been watching Rowan scrub for hours. Not that he minded, she was naked and he was looking at her. But her skin was starting to look red and raw like she was scrubbing it too hard. Rowan splashed some water at him. "Hey," Daryl complained, "these clothes are still mostly clean."

Now Rowan was really laughing. Daryl's idea of mostly clean was most people's idea of all the way filthy. His shirt even had blood sprinkled on it from when he punched that girl in the nose.

"Come in here with me," she told him, moving back to where she could sink down a little lower in the water. He shook his head.

"You come out."

She smiled and drifted towards him, letting him wrap her up like she was a small child in the blanket she was planning to use as a towel. Her fingers were wrinkled up like prunes under her tattoos, so she supposed it was time for her to get out. Daryl rubbed at her head with the blanket, trying to dry her hair off. Then suddenly he was crushing her against his chest.

"What's wrong," she asked, hugging him back just as tight. He sounded choked up, like he was wrestling with his emotions. She understood something about kicking and the baby. Rowan pushed Daryl back and pulled the blanket up. She rubbed a hand over the small hard lump between her hip bones.

"The baby is here," she reminded him. Then she put her hand much further up, above her little dip of a belly button. "She kicked me way up here," Rowan assured him. She was sure that was where she got kicked. There was a bruise already forming and her ribs on one side were going to be very sore for a while. But Daryl did not look conviced. She pulled his hand over and placed it over the hard lump.

"I can have Robin take a look at me before we go if that would make you feel better?," she offered. Daryl nodded and pulled her back into his arms, unable to find the words for how he felt.

TWD

Robin had Rowan lie back on the table and pull her shirt up. Then she pressed the end of a stethoscope to her belly and started feeling around. She had already warned them that it might be too early to hear the baby's heartbeat and that if she couldn't find it, that didn't mean the baby wasn't doing just fine. The best way to check on the baby this early on would be with a doppler and they were fresh out of those and the electricity to run one.

Daryl held his breath. If there was any moment in his life that was ever this tense, he couldn't remember it. Rowan's father, Spencer and Aaron were crowded into the tiny room with him and Aaron lifted his hand to give him small reassuring pat on the back. It felt like this woman had been feeling around on Rowan's stomach forever, but he knew it had only been about a minute or two. Finally he saw the woman's face light up with excitement. She held the end of the stethoscope still but let Rowan reach up to grab the end with the eartips on it and stick them into her own ears.

"Is that it?," Rowan asked. Her mouth was a perfect O shape and her eyes were wide with wonder and excitement. "It sounds like a hummin bird," she whispered. She waved her arm, motioning for Daryl to come forward. He rushed across the small space and stuffed the earbuds into his ears. He wasn't sure what he was listening to at first. It sounded like a really fast whoosh whoosh noise, almost like a tiny washing machine was inside Rowan's belly. She nodded at him. That was it. That was the sound of their baby growing strong and healthy inside her.

He lurched forward to kiss her, the stethoscope pulling awkwardly at his ears. Daryl pulled it off and pressed his mouth to Rowan's, feeling her smiling against his lips. After a second kiss, Aaron pushed forward, unable to wait anymore.

"Kiss later," he told them. Rowan giggled. "Shush up," Aaron told her, "all I can hear is you laughing." Robin took the stethoscope back and fixed the postion, then leaned close so Aaron could listen in. His eyes got big. He was sure he could hear something. Eric was going to be so jealous when he got back and told him about this. Rowan's dad shoved Spencer forward, letting him go next. Once he had a listen, he and Aaron headed outside to get out of the small space that was starting to fell hot and cramped. Tank pushed inside as they were heading out, one scrap of bandage left dangling from his giant head.

Rowan's father moved forward, taking the ear pieces and putting them into his ears. He laid his large hand flat on the opposite side of Rowan's stomach and listened. Not only did he hear the same soft whoosing noises, he felt something too. A funny bubble under the flat of his palm that he knew was the baby finally quickening inside his daughter's belly. When her mother had been pregnant with her, she had described it as feeling like a tiny little fish swimming inside her.

From the way Rowan smiled, he knew she felt it as well. He grasped Daryl's hand and placed it over her belly, taking the place of his own hand. He pressed down on top of the man's hand, applying gentle pressure.

"Fuck," Daryl cursed, yanking his hand back, "what the hell was that?" Rowan and her father started laughing. The older man tossed his arm around Daryl's shoulder, even daring to hug him a little against his side. He had noticed Daryl wasn't too comfortable with a lot of physical contact. But for once he felt the man's body relax as Daryl leaned just slightly into his embrace.

"Tell you what that was," Rowan's father said, "that there was my thakoza." For Daryl's benefit he quickly added the word granddaughter.

"It might be a boy," Daryl added hopefully. But that just made Rowan and her father laugh again. Daryl laughed along with them, wondering how they always seemed to know things before he did.


	21. Chapter 21

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 21

The last bits of light in the sky had given way to the paler shades of moonlight. A breeze blew in from the window that Enid insisted on leaving open at night. Even if it was cold out, she had to have at least a tiny bit of fresh air blowing in or she couldn't sleep. The breeze blew in, carrying with it the smell of smoke. Not the bad smoke smell of burning rotting corpses this time, but the summer odor of a charcoal fire and the good smells of food being cooked over it.

Carl guessed the smell was coming from the bonfire he and Enid had been invited to. Jessie's two sons and some of the other kids had been planning to roast smores and smoked sausages that Olivia made. Some of them were camping out in Deanna's backyard. Just for fun. Ron invited Carl and Enid to join them but they had declined the offer. They were both exhausted from being on the road all day and also from the stressful events that led up to their unexpected road trip.

Carl pulled the blanket up higher, tucking it under his chin. Enid had shoved the blankets down on her side of the bed. She must be hot again. He swore the girl turned into a human furnace the moment she fell asleep. Come winter he would be even more grateful to have her warm body next to him at night.

The moonlight reflected off the pale skin of her back. Her hair was tied up into a sloppy bun on top of her head, exposing the smooth line of her spine from the cords of her neck all the way down to the curve of her hip. Just a hint of the cleft of her buttocks was visible before her body was covered in the thick downy quit they were sleeping under.

Being so physically exhausted, Carl thought sleep would come easy for him. But now that things had settled down, he found he was playing out everything that had happened over and over again in his mind. Scaring himself with thoughts of all the horrible things that could have happened but didn't. He had always been afraid for himself. For his father and his sister. But none of that compared to the horrible piercing fear in his heart that hit him like a bullet the moment he thought something might happen to Enid. He had never felt anything like it before in his life. The sounds of the motorcycle engines roared in his ears again and he squeezed his eyes shut, reminding himself that it was over.

Reaching one hand out from under his cocoon of blankets, Carl brushed a stray lock of her hair away from Enid's face. He traced down the curve of her spine with his knuckles, until it disappeared under the blankets. His hand opened, caressing the curve of her hip before he grasped the blankets and pulled them over her. He cuddled in close, tucking his knees behind hers. She hummed at his touch, shifting her hips so her firm backside was flush against his hips.

"Still worried about those bikers?," she asked. Her voice was soft and sleepy. Once Carl had his nose tucked up into her neck he noticed the faint smell of horse that always seemed to linger in her hair.

"Mmmmhmm," he admitted. He was going to be worried about those guys until his dad figured out who they were and what they wanted. They looked like serious bad news. And the thought of what might have happened to Enid of they had gotten ahold of her made him feel that feeling again. Like someone had reached right into his chest and squeezed his heart until he couldn't breathe anymore.

"We're home now," she reminded him, "...safe. Your dad'll find 'em." Carl nodded and planted a small kiss on the back of her neck. She had come a long way from just survive somehow. Somewhere along the line she had turned hopeful. He felt her body shudder against him and he smiled, knowing he must have tickled her with his kiss. Within a few moments, Enid's breathing was slow and even again. She had fallen back to sleep. But sleep was a long time coming for Carl. He laid awake and replayed the events of the last few days out of his mind.

He and Daryl had been taken captive. They had almost been killed. But Rowan and Enid saved them. He had already known he was in love with his girl before that, but seeing her riding in on their horse with gun up and her wild hair flying around her head. That was an image he wasn't going to forget anytime soon. Maybe not for as long as he lived.

When Carl had been little he had been what his mother liked to call a bit of a handful. She was fond of saying that everyone had a guardian angel, but that his was a wild angel. And those were the words that came to his mind when Enid had rode into that camp and saved him. Fierce and brave with his hat perched on her head. For a moment he thought he was already dead and she had rode back to take him to heaven with her.

Rowan and Daryl stayed behind. To keep an eye on the people at that camp while Enid and Carl rode back to Alexandria for help. Enid was more familiar with the horses, so she rode Rowan's black horse Molly. And Carl rode Comet, Enid's horse. They took the highway back. Carl knew it was a bad idea, but he agreed because he was just as desperate as Enid to get back and get help as quickly as possible.

The highway offered no cover. The only people that really use it were people that were not from the area. Travelers or people that were lost and trying to get their bearings. Which is why other people hung around the highway. Bad people. There were groups, or at least one group, that liked to keep watch and ambush people that were passing through. Aaron had warned them about it before they left.

The morning ride had gone by quickly, he and Enid had not seen anyone. Not even walkers. This was a bad sign. Where there were no walkers, that meant people were around. They stopped by the side of the road to water the horses when Carl started to feel like he was being watched. Nothing noteable had happened. He just suddenly felt the hair on his arms standing up despite the heat of the day. And Carl had been through enough crap that he not longer questioned his instincts. He and Enid got back on their horses, keeping their hands in their loaded guns.

The sound of motorcycle engines was suddenly echoing all around them. They spotted the men coming from behind them first, so they charged forward, dodging around the snarls of abandoned cars on their horses. But the men had let themselves be seen on purpose. They were chasing Carl and Enid directly into a trap. More men had been waiting for them. A huge pack of them, all armed with guns and bows. They were blocking the entire road.

Carl had been ready to panic, pulling back on the reigns of his horse and trying to decide which way to go. It had been Enid's quick thinking that saved them. Without hesitation, she had turned Molly towards the woods and kicked in her heels. Comet was used to following Molly. And Molly was used to Rowan riding her at breakneck speeds through the woods. If it hadn't been for that the situation might have gone from bad to worse in a hurry.

Molly jumped the guard rail, clearing it by only a few inches. Carl was willing to admit, he kicked in his heels and leaned forward, clutching the horse he was riding by the mane and closing his eyes. The men couldn't follow them through the woods on their motorcycles and they were moving far too fast for them to follow them on foot.

What Enid had not been expecting was that more men were hidind in the woods, just behind the tree line. One stepped out in front of her and made her horse rear up. She barely held on, gripping the horse with her thighs and holding on to Molly's long raven mane. Carl was able to stop his horse in time, since he was a few feet back. He yanked his gun out and shot the man in the face. Then he screamed for Enid to go. All he remembered after that was the thundering sound of Comet's hooves and the whooshing sound the trees made as they whipped by. They ran until they were sure the men were far behind them and then they slowed down and made their way back home to Alexandria.

After that nasty woman Amanda had been killed, Carl only stayed long enough to know everyone was going to be alright. Rick had left a few hours later to come back and let everyone at home know the group that had left to help Daryl and Rowan was fine and would be back in a few days. Since Carl had not been eager to spend another second of his time in that terrible place, he and Enid came back home with his dad.

Carl thought he was eager to get home. He wanted to see Judith and his new baby brother. Sleep in his own bed instead of in a tent. But now that he was here, he just felt restless. He hated to say he had a feeling something was brewing, Enid would tease him and tell him he had been spending too much time with Rowan listening to her mumbo jumbo. But the truth was he did have a feeling. Not a premonition. He wasn't even sure exactly what that was. What he felt was more of a general sense of foreboding. Somehow he just knew. Getting away from those men was not the end. It was only the beginning.


	22. Chapter 22

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 22

Leaning back against her father's shoulder, Rowan let the motion of the moving car lull her into a state that was somewhere between fully awake and fully alseep. Not only was she phsically tired, she also felt emotionally drained from the events of the last two weeks. Tank was sitting on the floor between her knees, his giant head resting in her lap. She noticed he had been sniffing at her more than usual, and nuzzling at the small hard lump between her hip bones. Rowan wouldn't be surprised if the dog knew she was pregnant. Animals were more intuitive than people in lots of ways.

Without opening her eyes, she ran her fingers over his thick black fur, stroking the spot on his forehead where his fur was the softest and the silkiest. Tank shifted his large body, trying to edge in just a little closer to her. He had ripped his bandage off again, but since his wounds were scabbing over and healing, Rown decided not to try and rewrap him. Her father reached over, giving the dog a few soft strokes. Rowan didn't see him, but she could feel the shift of his body and the subtle movements of her dog as he leaned into the man's affections.

She and Daryl had set out to have an adventure. They wanted to catch fish and cook them over the fire. Camp out under the stars and visit the place where Rowan was born. In the end they had gotten a whole lot more adventure than they had bargained for. Daryl had been taken hostage and Rowan had almost been killed. Carl and Enid had both almost been kidnapped or killed. Rowan decided she was done with adventures.

Rowan found herself looking forward to getting back to Alexandria. To the place that now felt like home to her. Once they got back, she planned to stay put this time. She missed her friends, her horses and her goats. The unfinished business that had called her back to her birthplace had been dealt with. Responsible and caring people were now in charge of the group. The two boys that Amanda hurt had their legs set back in place, though neither would ever be fast runners and Rowan knew their hips would probably dislocate more easily than the hips of normal men. Lauren had given birth to a beautiful set of twins. One boy and one girl. A good omen. Once Rowan held the sweet sleeping babes in her arms, she knew the horrible nightmares that had been waking her every night were gone forever. They had been replaced by much more pleasant dreams of her mother.

Not been much had been left of the woman's remains. That was what Rowan's father told her. He made Rowan stay outside with Aaron while he and Daryl wrapped what was left of her mother's corpse up in a colorful blanket. Rowan cut off a braided length of her mother's hair and wrapped it up in a bit of white lace. Then she watched her husband and her father bury her mother under her favorite willow tree. Rowan sprinkled the first small handful of dirt over the body. Then she sat on the grass and cried as she watched them cover the body with earth. When she got home, Rowan planned to sew the long copper strands of her mother's hair into the lining of the baby blanket she was making for her daughter. That way her mother's spirit would always be with them.

Going back to her mother's home meant Rowan was able to take some of the things she had to leave behind when she and her father had run for their lives. She now had her mother's spell book, which was actually not really much of a spell book and more of a collection of recipes for herbal medicines that had the woman had spent most of her life collecting. Along with the book, Rowan took her mother's medical supplies. Daryl and Aaron helped her pack the many tiny glass jars, wrapping them in cut up socks and blankets to keep them from breaking on the way home to Alexandria. They were all labeled meticulously in her mother's small even script. There were tinctures in tiny dropper bottles, small flat tins with salves inside, plus jars after jars after jars full of dried herbs and flowers.

Rowan had taken a few of her mother's favorite dresses. She was wearing one now, a long pale teal dress with an abstract circular pattern on the front. Pregnancy had made Rowan a lot more full in the chest than she had been the last time she borrowed the dress. Now she filled out the top and didn't have to try and tie the halter straps tighter to make it fit. Wearing it made her feel close to her mother and she liked to think she could still smell the woman's scent lingering in the fabric. Rowan was debating on keeping and wearing the other dresses, or taking them apart and making baby clothes for her daughter out of the material.

The thing Rowan was happiest about was something far less practical than herbal medicine or even clothing. She now had her mother's tarot cards. The well worn set that the corners had worn off of years ago. People had given her mother countless other sets of cards over the years, but she only ever used this one deck. Rowan remembered sitting on her mother's lap while the woman let her hold the beautifully painted cards in her small freckled hands, explaining what each one meant. Rowan wasn't sure if she would be able to bring herself to ever use the cards, she had been overwhelmed with emotion just holding the deck in her hands, but she took them. She wouldn't have even considered leaving them behind.

Rowan didn't open her eyes, but she felt someone covering her with a warm blanket. Her father slid his body closer to Spencer, so that Rowan's head was resting in his lap instead of against his shoulder. Morgan crowded in, trying to lick at her face. Tank growled at the much skinnier pup until he whined and scampered away to lay back down under Abraham's long legs. Lily and Aaron's dog Marilyn were in the front of the RV, sitting between Aaron and Daryl so they could look out the windows as they drove.

The sound of frenzied barking woke Rowan from her nap. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother's words were still bouncing around in her head. _Cover your ears._ Rowan didn't have time to stop and comtemplate what the message might mean. The RV was no longer moving, but the engine was still running. Spencer, Aaron and Eric were crowded up near the front, looking out the windshield. Daryl, Abraham and her father were grabbing for weapons.

"What's going on?," Rowan asked. She could barely hear herself think over the loud racket of four giant dogs barking at once.

"Just stay in here," Daryl warned her.

"Take tank and go hide in the back of the RV," her father added, pointing in the direction he wanted her to go. Then the three men piled out the door, guns up. Rowan glanced toward the bedroom section of the RV, briefly considering listening to what she had been told to do. Then she charged towards the front, squeezing in between Aaron and Spencer to get a look at what was going on.

There were men blocking the road. A large group of them. They were on motorcycles. Rowan knew this meant that they were probably the same group of people that had tried to stop Carl and Enid when they were riding back to Alexandria on their horses. This also meant they were the type of men that hung out near the highway to try and rob or kill travelers as they passed through the area. Bad men. Rowan concentrated on the men. They were spread out like a flock of geese. The man in the point position seemed to be in charge so Rowan looked at him first. He had an unusual aura. It slicked back off his head like the fur on an otter. The aura was brown with greed, but also streaked with the bright orange that signified courage and self control.

Spencer and Aaron were checking their own guns, having a quick and rushed discussion about whether it would be better for them to show themselves or stay hidden. Lily and Tank were at the door of the RV. Lily was barking and Tank was scratching at the door, trying to get it open. They were both being very naughty and Rowan knew if her dogs got outside and started going after the men on the motorcycles, it was not going to improve the situation. Those men looked mean. And they had guns. They would shoot her dogs if they thought the animals were a threat.

Tank still had his collar off, since it was rubbing on one of his healing cuts, so Rowan wrapped her arms around his neck and tried draggin him back. He had his paws locked into the edge of the door, nails digging in. All she managed to do when she added her combined weight to his was to pry the damn door wide open, forcing the hinges to bend in the wrong direction. When Tank lost his grip the door snapped back and flung wide open. Both dogs charged out and Rowan half slid half tumbled down the steps behind them, landing on her butt on the pavement. She couldn't hear Daryl suck in his breath over the loud barking of the dogs. But she felt it. A sharp intake of air. He was afraid she hurt herself or the baby when she fell.

Only three men had come out of the RV. They were armed, but the leader knew his gang had the numbers. From the clean look of them and the dogs barking inside the vehicle, it was obvious they were not living on the road. They to be set up pretty good somewhere. Probably somewhere close. The leader opened his mouth to start explaining the situation to the three men. They were going to give up half their shit or they were going to die. Before he got to the good part, two of the biggest dogs he had ever seen jumped out. A thin woman came sliding down the steps after them, slipping and falling on her butt.

The two dogs flanked the man with the crossbow, barking menacingly. Most of the motorcycle gang got a better grip on their weapons, aiming their guns at the huge dogs in case they tried to come at them. The woman had an odd appearance. She was wearing a long dress and sandals for one thing. Not the most practical clothing to wear when you were running from the undead. She wasn't pretty in a conventional sense, but she had a unique look. Every inch of her exposed skin was covered in freckles, but instead of the copper hair that ought to go with such a complexion, she had long thick black hair that hung almost to her waist.

Daryl was hissing at Rowan to get her ass back in the RV. Of course she was refusing to listen, intent on making the dogs go back inside with her. She gotin front of her dogs, snapping her fingers in Tank's face. Now she was right in the line of fire, standing directly between their group and the bikers.

"NO BARK!," she hollered at Tank and Lily. Morgan and Marliyn were still inside the RV, and Rowan was thankful to whoever had grabbed them in time to keep them from getting out here. If they were out, she would have no hope of trying to control all four dogs at once.

"NO. BARK.," she repeated, pointing her finger at Tank's face. He stopped barking and started growling low in his throat instead. "NO!," Rowan told him. She pointed towards the RV. "Go lay down," she ordered. She used all the authority she could muster. Tank stared back at her and then sat down on his haunches. He went back to growling at the men on the bikes.

"Oh, you're such a naughty dog," Rowan informed the giant insolent beast. Her exasperated sigh brought on some laughter from the men behind her. One man towards the back of the group laughed harder than he meant to. His laughter turned into a coughing fit that he couldn't stop. Hard wet coughing that made Rowan's chest and throat burn in sympathy just to listen to it. The man set his gun across the handle bars of his bike and grabbed for his water. He tried taking a drink and just ended up choking on the water and coughing harder.

Daryl should have known what Rowan was about to do. He made a grab for her wrist but only got an empty handful of air. She was already crossing the distance between the two groups and heading for the coughing man with no reagard at all for her personal safety. Tank got up and followed after her, growling at the man as he weaved between their bikes.

The harder he coughed, the harder it felt like he was going to cough. The man was gasping for air, feeling like he might fall off his bike and faint. What he needed was a few more days in bed. But he had run out of points for food and medicine. It was go out and work today or starve. Suddenly he felt someone's hand come down between his shoulder blades, giving him a few hard firm whacks in time with his coughing fits. A giant glob of sickening green and yellow phlem flung our of his mouth, hitting the pavement with a wet smack. He sucked in air, almost feeling greedy for it. He lifted the water bottle to his lips again, but felt a gentle hand on his wrist.

"Sip it slowly." He turned to see the hippie woman that had been trying to control the dogs. She was unarmed and looking at him with a lot of caring and concern on her face. It had been a long time since anyone looked at him like they were concerned for his well being. Especially a complete stranger. He took her advice and forced himself to take small sips of the water, letting it cool his flaming throat.

"Take your jacket off," the woman instructed. He gave her a questioning look, causing some laughter from his companions. One suggested that perhaps she wanted to get his clothes off. The woman ignored them and laid her hand on the thick muscle of his arm. "I just want to listen to your lungs," she explained. Her touch was warm even through the fabric of his shirt and it made him feel oddly calm. Like everything was going to be alright. He nodded and eased his jacket down off one shoulder. As the woman moved into his personal space, the man saw her giant black dog was watching him closely. If he made any quick movements, he had no doubt that dog was going to bite him to keep him from hurting the woman.

Rowan eased in close to the man, her leg touching the hard metal of his bike. She steadied herself with one hand on his shoulder. Then she pressed her ear to his back. She could hear the wheezing from the swelling in his lungs. But more concerning was the shaky rattle that came with it. He had fluid in his lungs. Bronchitis if he was lucky and walking phenomena if he wasn't. Rowan pressed her wrist to his forehead. He wasn't hot, which meant he probably wasn't overly contagious. His aura was mostly grey but it still had a little color to it. Some of the brown that hung around the other men in his group, but mostly pale blue and green.

"Come on," Rowan told the man. She moved back to give him room to step off his bike, motioning for him to follow her. The man hesitated and then swung down from his bike to follow her.

"Hey Hey Hey," the leader of the small group said, finally speaking up. He directed his words towards Rowan, but he was speaking to his man as well. "What in the hell are you doing?"

The woman gave him an angry glance. Then to his surprise she charged towards him. Her skirt swished as she walked. When she got closer he noticed the crystal necklace that was hanging down between her breasts. She pointed at the man who had been coughing.

"Your friend is very sick," she said. The way she spoke to the man struck him as odd considering he had a gun in his hands and this skinny little girl didn't. She was not afraid of him, she was scolding him like he was a child. "He shouldn't even be out of bed," Rowan continued. She knew these were bad men, but they ought to at least be taking care of each other. This man was going to get so sick he might die if he didn't rest and let his body recover. "I am going to make him some medicine," Rowan announced.

With that she spun on her heels and stomped back over to the man she was intent on helping. Before he could think too much about whether or not he wanted to go with her, Rowan grasped him by the hand and started pulling him along behind her to the RV. Daryl watched her charge past him with a look of absolute horror on his face. Her father looked more amused with her behavior. Rowan was like her mother. She couldn't stand to see anyone sick or in pain. Even a dirty biker that wanted to steal their shit.

Now that Rowan was back inside the RV, Tank was willing to head back inside himself. He gave the leader of the bikers one more suspicios bark and then followed his mistress inside. Rowan shooed him out of her way and started issuing orders. Eric got out the electric tea kettle and turned it on. The biker man was seated at the table and Rowan took the blanket she had been sleeping under, wrapping it around his shoulders. Spencer got him a glass of water and some tylenol.

Rowan yanked out the large box of her mother's herbal medcine and carefully dug through it to find the items she wanted. The man just sat quietly and watched Rowan. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but if this strange woman wanted to help him he wasn't going to stop her. It looked like she was making him some medicinal tea.

Once she had the tea steeping, Rowan put more of the tea blend in a plastic baggie and handed it to the man. "Two cups a day, there should be enough in there to last you two weeks if you steep the same cup a few times before you throw it out," she told him. The man nodded and stuck the baggie into the inner pocket of his jacket. "The tea needs to steep for a least ten minutes," she added, glancing towards the tea she was wishing would hurry up and get ready. Then she remembered the other way mullein could be taken into the body.

"Spencer get your pipe out," she said. She was speaking to a tall man who was lingering near the front of the RV. Spencer fumbled through the glove box of the vehicle, producing a small glass pipe and a bag of weed. "Don't be givin' away all my pot," Spencer warned her. Rowan rolled her eyes at him and took a small pinch of marijuanna from the bag, stuffing it into the pipe. Then she took some dried yellow flowers from another bag and crumbled them up, stuffing them into the pipe on top of the pot.

Rowan handed the pipe to the man. A thin man with red hair stepped forward and pulled a lighter from his pocket, handing it to the sick man. He looked at the items in his hands suspicously. Not that he didn't like to get high, but smoking to get rid of a cough seemed counterproductive.

"What's the yellow shit?," he asked.

"Mullein," the woman told him, "same as whats in the tea I'm making you. The pot makes the smoke go down smoother." The man still didn't look convinced, so Rowan took the pipe back. She lit it and took a puff herself to show the man that it wouldn't hurt him, then she handed it back. The man nodded, watching the woman blow the smoke out from between her lips. He flicked the lighter, taking a long drag. The smoke made him cough, but after a few drags he could tell that his coughs were burning less and becoming more productive. The junk down in the bottom of his lungs was finally loosening up.

When he was done smoking, Rowan stuck a large mug of tea in front of him, watching the man to make sure he drank it all down. The man handed her the empty cup back and assesed how he was feeling. Maybe it was only because he was high, but he could swear he felt better. A lot better. His throat wasn't as dry and painful. He was still coughing, but his lungs had stopped burning. This woman wasn't some quack lunatic, she had actually helped him. He smiled at her and was rewarded when she smiled back at him. The man had been thinking that Rowan was rather odd looking, but he would be damned if she wasn't pretty when she smiled. One of her eye teeth stuck out a little, giving her a quirkly look.

"Thanks," the man told her. He really meant it. Rowan smiled again and nodded towards the door.

"I think you better go back to your friends now," she told him. "Thank me by drinking that tea and resting until you feel better."

The man nodded. He reluctantly pulled the blanket from around his shoulders and handed it back to her, wishing that he knew her name. Against his better judgement the man reached out and gave the woman's giant black dog a pat on the head. The dog grumbled a low growl of protest but allowed the brief contact. Giving the woman one more nod of thanks, the man put his hand on the door latch to pull it open. As he lowered his foot to the first step, the entire RV shook with a thunderous explosion that sent him tripping down the steps and falling on his elbows on the pavement. He scrambled to his feet to see what remained of his group lying in smoldering pieces in the street.

 **** If you can't tell from this chapter I am going to start working some of the show events back into this story. It will obviously be an AU since Morgan is already dead, Deanna and Reg are still alive and leading the town, Michonne and Rick already have a baby together, and some of the wolves are part of the Alexandria group. I might work in some stuff from the comics if I end up getting ahead of the show, but they will be mixed in with my own imagination so I don't think it will get to the point of spoiling anything for anyone. Big thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. ****


	23. Chapter 23

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 23

The look on the leader's face betrayed him, showing more than the tough attitude he was trying to portray. He wore an expression of amusement peppered with a fair amount of confusion that he was trying his best to hide. As Neegan's soliders, they dealt with all different types of groups. He knew people could be unpredictable. But they had stopped surprising him a long time ago. He was doing his best to maintain his composure, but that strange woman had shocked the shit out of him.

David, the man she had approached, wasn't exactly a ladies man. He had a face full of acne scars and long scraggly hair that looked like he had stopped taking care of it long before the end of the world. One of his eyes was damaged and it gave him a strange lopsided appearance. Like the rest of them, David had an intimidating presence. That's why he was assigned to this group. But that woman had walked right up to him like she wasn't scared at all. Watching her weave between their bikes, it crosses his mind that he had never seen a woman try that before. Raping wasn't allowed. But the groups they encountered didn't know that. Women usually ran and hid from them or cowered behind their men. Either this one was special kind of stupid or she was crazy brave. Maybe a little bit of both. In an even stranger turn of events, the woman had then offered to help David without demanding anything in return.

David climbed off his bike, something he knew was totally and completely against the rules. Not only that, he left his gun behind and let that woman lead him around by his hand like he was a five year old instead of a grown man and a member of Neegan's army. Not sure quite how to react to the odd situation, the leader of the group took a moment to compose himself. He decided the best course of action was to pretend that nothing at all had happened and carry on with what he had been waiting here to do.

"First things first," he told the three men standing in front of him, eyeing the large lighter brown dog that had not followed the dark haired woman back inside the camper, "I'm gonna need your weapons." He could see the men's bodies tense up. The man in the middle with the long dark hair concerned him the most. He had a marking carved into his forehead, which made him look a little crazy. But it wasn't that. There was something in his eyes and the posture of his body. He was not afraid to die.

"Why should we give you anything?," Daryl asked, aiming his bow at the man who was talking to them. The threat was obvious. If you signal your men to attack, you will be the first to die.

"Well, your guns no longer belong to you," the man said, "your camper, the gas in it..." He rambled on, mentioning anything else that might be inside the truck. "All your property now belongs to Neegan." Daryl wasn't really sure how to react to that. He did get the distinct impression that these people were part of a much larger group and he was worried that more people might be watching them from the woods. Waiting to jump in if they decided to fight these men instead of just rolling over. Rowan's father had no such concerns. And he didn't like being threatened.

"Wendigo," Rowan's father announced, training his gun on the man. Abraham cursed under his breath. He had spent enough time with the other members of Rowan's old group to know what the fuck that word meant. Rowan's damn dad was about to do something crazy as hell.

"Be cool," Abraham hissed at Rowan's father. Of course his subtle advice didn't work. Rowan's father stepped forward and opened his mouth again.

"I am Grey Wolf, leader of my tribe as my father was leader of my tribe before me," he informed the men. Abraham was surprised at the biker's reactions. Some of them looked like they almost might be impressed. Or at least like they thought Rowan's father was giving them some quality entertainment. They didn't look ready to blast him to pieces. Not yet anyway. "You are Wendigo and we will give you nothing. Leave now before I am forced to kill you and leave you and your men to walk among the army of the dead."

"Oh we got us a live one here," the leader of the other group announced. "Fucking John Redcorn," he laughed, insulting the man with the first thing that came to his mind.

Abraham glanced at Daryl, hoping he might do something to reign in Rowan's father. Daryl met his eyes and gave him a slight shrug of his shoulders. It was too late to do anything now. Fighting amongst themselves in front of these men would only make them look weak. They were just going to have to see how this played out. Lily was growing at the man on the bike. She must not have liked the tone in his voice when he was talking to Rowan's father, who she considered one of the people it was her personal job to protect. Daryl edged forward slightly, making sure Lily was close enough that he would be able to grab her if she decided to lunge at the man on the bike.

"Normally we introduce ourselves by killing someone right away," the man on the bike said. He finally pulled out the gun he had tucked into his waistband and pointed it at Rowan's father, the man that seemed the most threatening to him. The man didn't even flinch. However, the two men behind him looked slightly more concerned for their own safety, so he carried on with his well practiced speech.

"But you seem like reasonable people. So I am going to tell you what we are going to do. We are going to follow you home. Find out where you hang your hats. Then we are going to take half your shit. If you don't like that, we are going to kill you. We are going to take your shit anyway. Then we are going to kill your dogs and we are going to eat them."

Just for the effect he threw that last part in there on the fly. He thought threatening the dogs would be a nice touch. Icing on the cake. Actually he was impressed with the animals. It was the first time he had seen anything like it. The dogs were intimidating. He didn't really want to eat them, but he might like to take one and see if he could get it to mind him.

The man on the bike opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by a high pitched whistling noise. Before he could even look to see where it was coming from, he and his men were blasted into a million pieces.

Daryl cursed and dropped his bow, holding his hands over his face to protect himself from the heat of the blast. Lily was yelping. A hot chunk of something had lodged into her fur and it was burning her. Rowan's father smacked it out with his hands and grabbed her collar to keep her from running scared. She was still whining and pawing at her ears. The force of the explosion had probably hurt them, maybe even blown her eardrums out.

"Whoa whoa whoa..." The voice came from the side of the RV where the door was. The one remaining biker was on his ass on the pavement, scooting back and away from Aaron. The very large gun Aaron had shot the rest of his group with was still smoldering. He was holding it like a baseball bat, prepared to beat the man with it if he had to. Abraham and Daryl moved quickly, training their guns on the man.

Once his hearing started to return, the first thing Daryl heard was Rowan. She was inside the RV, crying out in pain. He took his eyes off the man on the gorund, turning to peer inside the open door of the RV. Rowan was on the floor with Eric kneeling next to her, holding her ear. A small trickle of blood was snaking down the side of her face.

"I will fucking kill you,"Daryl hollered, pointing his gun at the man on the ground again. The man held his hands up, insisting that he never laid a hand on her.

"Never touched her," he said, "I swear I never laid a finger on her." The man started coughing again and finally had to turn and brace his hands on the pavement to help absorb the force of his raking coughs. He had gotten a big face full of the smoke from the explosion and it had not helped to improve his condition.

"It's true," Eric called from inside the camper, "She sat down by the open window... I think maybe the blast blew her eardrum out. That guy never touched her." He was trying to pry Rowan's fingers away from her ear so he could make sure nothing had flown into it. She was refusing to cooperate, clamping her hand down over her ear and squaking like Eric was trying to kill her. Tank barged in, growling in the man's face until he backed off. Rowan's father kept ahold of Lily's collar and started heading for the camper. Daryl caught him in the doorway.

"What should we do with him?," he asked, gesturing towards the man they were holding at gunpoint.

"He's wendigo," Grey Wolf informed him, like that ought to explain everything. Then he turned and headed inside the camper to deal with Rowan.

First Rowan's father shoved Tank away. Then he shoved the pain in the ass dog away again harder, giving him a hard whack on the rump to keep him moving. He tried coaxing his daughter first, explaining that he needed to check and make sure nothing got into her ear. But Rowan either couldn't hear him or she was refusing to listen because when he grabbed for her wrist she clamped her hand down tighter over her ear and tried to kick him. Eric stood back watching the scene unfold. He wasn't sure what in the hell was going on or what if anything he ought to do about it.

Rowan's dad was trying to look at her injured ear and then next thing Eric knew the two of them were involved in some sort of crazed wrestling match while they yelled and screamed at each other in another language. From how loud Rowan was yelling, it was obvious she couldn't hear herself. Eric guessed that meant he was right about the eardrum. The funniest part was Tank. Eric expected the ever faithful dog to step in and protect Rowan but he seemed much more interested in trying to lick a Lily's ears, completely oblivious to the fact that Rowan's father now had her pinned to the floor of the RV, looking into her ears depsite her loud complaints.

Outside the camper the men were having their own problems. Aaron had killed the bikers that were threatening them, but he didn't feel right about killing a sick man that was crying and coughing on the ground at their feet. Abraham and Daryl were refusing to bring the sick man back with them. This left the men at an impass.

"Just let him go," Daryl finally suggested. The man didn't know where they were going or how to get there. He didn't have a vehicle to follow them in. And while Daryl agreed that the smartest course was to shoot this man, he didn't really want to do it himself. That made him feel hard pressed to insist that someone else do the murdering for him. Aaron nodded his head in agreement. Abraham just shrugged his shoulders and headed back inside the RV. He also thought the man should be killed, but since the man no longer posed a threat he didn't see any reason to fight with Aaron over the matter. The man was sick. He was alone and unarmed. He was as good as dead anyway.

Everyone and every dog was inside the camper and accounted for, so Aaron fired the engine back up, leaving the coughing man sitting in the road behind them. Aaron kept an eye on him in the rearview mirror until he was out of sight. Eric took the passenger seat, reaching over to put a comforting hand on Aaron's knee. Killing people wasn't something that either of them enjoyed.

"If it makes you feel better," Eric whispered, leaning in close, "you looked really sexy holding that big gun." His joke had the intended effect. Both men laughed together and started to put the events of the day behind them.

Daryl entered the camper to find his wife hiding under the table with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her father was on the other side of the RV, leaning back with his arms crossed. The two of them were still arguing back and forth. They were speaking in sioux, but Daryl had spent enough time with them that he could pick up most of what they were saying. Rowan was calling her father a big mean jerk. And he was telling her to stop acting like such a little baby. Family squabbles between them were rare, but not totally unheard of. If they got into it, the fight was often about one of the dogs. Usually Morgan.

"You hurt my sore wrist," Rowan accused, speaking in english now so everyone could hear her complaint. She was talking loud as hell and she sounded half retarded, like she couldn't hear herself. Daryl could tell that both Spencer and Abraham were fighting back laughter.

"Well if you wouldn't have fought me, you wouldn't have gotten hurt," Rowan's father informed her, leaning down and speaking loudly to make sure Rowan heard him. Daryl was looking slightly concerned with the situation so the man directed a much quieter comment towards him.

"I had to make sure there was nothing stuck in her ear," Rowan's father added. This time his tone was a little more apologetic. Daryl was good people, and his constant need to protect Rowan was one of his best features as far as her father was concerned. Rowan's father didn't hurt her, but he did hold her down and make sure the bleeding in her ear had stopped and there wasn't anything lodged in there. He wanted to make sure Daryl knew that. Daryl gave the man a slight nod of his head, his way of saying the issue was settled.

While she enjoyed helping other people if they were sick or injured, Rowan herself was just about the worst patient ever. She had been that way since she was a kid. Only her mother had ever been able to doctor her without her freaking out. The worst was the time she cut her leg on a piece of glass bad enough that the bleeding wouldn't stop and she needed stitches. That had been after the outbreak. Derek had tried reasoning with her, since it happened back when the two of them were still in love. But in the end he had to grab her and stuff a rag in her mouth to keep her from screaming and attracting the dead. It took four grown men to hold her down so Nokake could suture her leg. Rowan refused to speak to any of them for a few days after that, but the stitches had saved her from a lot of blood loss and possibly a bad infection.

Rowan hugged her knees and refused to say anything else to her father. She was fuming mad and her ear felt like it was on fire. When she got back home to Alexandria she was moving out of his house and back into her trailer. He was the meanest man on earth. _He didn't mean it. Come on out baby._ She could hear Daryl's voice in her head. He sounded sad and worried. Then she remembered feeling his fear for her when she fell down the steps of the RV and landed hard on the concrete. She didn't really want to admit it, but that was probably what had actually hurt her wrist, not anything her father did to her.

Rowan climbed out from under the table, taking care not to rip her dress. Daryl held his arms out and she was more than happy to let him wrap her up into his warm embrace. He held her on his lap, smoothing her hair down with his rough hands. He pulled out his hankerchief and wiped the blood away from her ear and off the side of her face. She felt the press of his lips on her forehead and then one hand tucked around her waist, resting protectively against her stomach. Rowan closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. She wasn't sure at what point she fell asleep in his arms but when she woke up again they were home.

 **** The reviews have been acting up, some are coming through in my email but not posting to the story. I know I had a question from Celia Azul about Rowan's age. In my original notes I had her at 25 at the beginning of the outbreak, so by now she is around 27 or 28. This puts her dad at about 44, which fits since he is described as being only slightly older than Daryl. Thanks to everyone that took the time to leave a review. Another Carl and Enid chapter will be coming up next. ****


	24. Chapter 24

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 24

Enid woke up just after sunrise. She knew she would wake up early since she had gone to bed so early the night before. Her body finally felt rested after the constant strain and stress of the last week. She had pushed herself to her breaking point and then beyond, not allowing herself to give in to the intense need for rest until she and Carl were both home safe in Alexandria.

Carl was still snoring softly beside her. Only the first few streaks of light were creeping in through the cracks in the blinds painting pale strips across the bare skin of his chest. Enid eased herself out from under his arm and shoved her pillow close to him. The way he rolled onto his side and nuzzled into it made her smile, since she knew in his dreamlike state the young man believed the warm pillow was her.

She had fallen asleep naked the night before and the cool morning breeze blowing in from the open window felt refreshing on her bare skin. The elastic Enid used to tie her hair up the night before had come loose. She found it tangled in a lock of her hair, gripping it she pulled it the rest of the way out, then took her brush from off the top of the dresser and combed the tangles out of her hair. Her long dark locks were getting greasy at the roots. What her hair really needed was a good scrub and she briefly considered heading across the hall and taking a long hot shower. But then she decided showering was pointless.

Enid was going to spend the morning taking care of the horses and the goats, then working in the gardens. Olivia and Rosie had been watching the gardens while Enid and Rowan were gone. The women would go out and pick whatever was ripe, but there was no doubt every bed was going to be filled to the brim with weeds. There was no point to showering now, Enid decided she would rather wash later so she could go to bed squeaky clean with freshly shaved legs. The sensual thought of her bare legs against the cool sheets almost sent her back under them to wake the boy that had been sleeping next to her, but Carl looked so peaceful she knew she should let him sleep until he woke up on his own.

Carl's hair was spread out on the pillow under his head. It had grown so much that it was down to his shoulders now. He was talking about cutting it off for the summer. Enid didn't want him to be uncomfortable, but she loved his hair the way it was. Long and soft with just the right amount of wave to it. Not fine and stick straight like hers.

There were clean clothes folded up in the drawers of her dresser, a welcome luxury after weeks of camping and being on the road. The morning air was cool but Enid guessed the day was going to warm up quickly, so she decided on a pair of cutoff shorts and a colorful tank top. At some point Rowan had gotten ahold of a tie dye kit and then proceeded to dye everything she could get her hands on, including all the curtains in her father's house, which now looked like it was host to a gay pride parade. Enid was fairly certian that even some of Daryl's undershirts and probably some of his boxers were now rainbow colored, which made her want to giggle. Rowan had colored Enid a few tank tops and one short cotton dress. Enid liked one top in particular, the one she was pulling over her head. It was snug but not too tight and had turned out a pretty aqua color where the green and blue mixed together.

She pulled on a nice clean pair of socks, another item she used to take for granted before the turn that now felt like heaven on her feet. Enid slid out the door, shutting it softly behind her before padding quietly down the hall. She peeked in on Judith, making sure the she was still asleep. The little girl had been upgraded to a toddler bed since she learned how to climb. The crib on the opposite wall was empty, which meant Michonne was either awake or that she had given up and taken the baby to bed with her. He was cute as a button, but there was no denying that her son was a demanding little fellow. Enid felt like every time she saw the baby, he was either latched on to Michonne's tit or screaming because he didn't have a tit in his mouth.

Enid eased into the room and pulled Judith's blanket up over her to keep her warm. One of Enid's cats was curled up near Judith's little feet and Enid ran her hands over its soft fur a few times, smiling when she heard it's little purr motor kick on. With Judith and the cat safely tucked in, Enid headed back down the hall towards the steps, avoiding the third one down because it squeaked. She found Michonne in the living room, stretched out on the couch with her baby cuddled close to her breast.

Moose was on the floor next to the couch, snoring with his long pink tounge dangling out. When Lily had her pups, Rowan had given one of the only two black dogs to Carl. He was determined that the dog was going to be his best friend. Carl was going to train the dog to hunt and kill walkers with him, just like Rowan's dogs did for her. Sadly, the dog had ideas of his own. Moose had taken an instant liking to Michonne. He followed the woman everywhere. Once she had her baby, he got even more intense about staying close to her. Eventually Carl gave up and moved the dog's bed into the room Michonne shared with his father.

At the sound of Enid approaching, Moose opened his sleepy eyes. She knelt down and scratched him behind his ears. Then she leaned over him and pressed a kiss into Andy's wild head of curls. Michonne yawned and reached over to clasp Enid's hand with hers.

"Glad you're back," Michonne said, smiling up at her. Enid smiled back. She liked living with Rick and Michonne. Rowan had always been more of a friend, despite the difference in age between them. Living with the Grimes made Enid feel more like she had parents again.

"You thirsty?," Enid asked the woman. Michonne nodded. She was always thirsty. It felt like for every glass of water she drank, her son sucked twice that amount of liquid out of her. "Milk or water?," Enid asked.

"Would you mind making me a cup of tea?," Michonne whispered. Enid nodded at her. She had to make tea for herself anyway, unless she wanted to end up in Michonne's predicament. Heading into the kitchen, Enid filled the kettle halfway with water from the tap. Running water, another thing not to be taken for granted. She put the kettle on the electric burner and switched the stove on.

The teapot and the other items she needed to make Michonne's tea were already out on the counter. Enid guessed the woman had been about to make herself some tea when her baby started crying. Michonne had a large jar of loose leaf tea that Rowan made for her. Enid wasn't sure on all the ingredients but she knew there was a lot of fenugreek in there, that stuff had an unpleasant licorice smell to it that was hard to miss. She had been watching Rowan make teas and salves for so long she was starting to pick up on most of the more common ingredients and their uses.

Enid made a potfull for Michonne but only a cup for herself, with her own tea blend. The tea she drank to keep herself from getting pregnant. With all the craziness of Carl being kidnapped and having to hurry back home for help, Enid knew she missed her morning tea several times in the last week. And then she and Carl had sex. More than once. Enid sighed and forced herself to stop stressing over it. All she could do was drink her tea now. If she was already pregnant, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Enid took Michonne a large mug of tea and let the woman know she had made a whole teapot full and the rest was on the kitchen counter. Michonne thanked her with a grateful smile. Enid gulped down the rest of her tea, grimacing at the slightly bitter taste. Then she grabbed an apple and a large travel mug of ice cold water for herself and headed out the back door. She walked around the side of the house, smiling when she saw the horses had gotten out of their enclosure again and were milling around in Rowan's front yard. Molly was getting to be as bad as Tank, always looking for Rowan, stomping her hooves and throwing a regular horse fit if she couldn't find the woman.

Coming around into the front yard, Enid whistled for the horses and encourged them to follow her down the street towards the back of town. If she was feeding the goats, she figured she might as well feed the horses at the same time. They had probably already filled up on grass and whatever they had picked out of Rowan's frontyard gardens, so she would just make sure they got some grain and plenty of water to drink. Comet was in a playful mood. He nibbled at her hair as they walked and kept nudging at her with his big horse body like he wanted her to chase him. She laughed, telling him Tank and Lily would be home soon to play with him.

"Hey Enid!" The voice came from behind her and Enid didn't recognize it. She stopped and turned to see that it was Ron. He was hurrying down the street after her, as fast as he could hurry with two large buckets in his hands. She waited for him to catch up and took one of the buckets, flinching away from the smell of it. "My mom's been having everyone save their eggshells and coffee grounds," Ron explained, "to fertilize the gardens." From the smell of the buckets, a few rotten eggs had ended up in with the shells.

"I'm glad you're back," Ron announced. Enid cocked her head at him, feeling her body tense as she wondered what brought on such a friendly statement. He smiled at her and added, "That big white goat went after my mom. Then he went after Olivia. And then he even chased the wolf girls around. So I've been feeding the goats by myself." Enid smiled back, thinking she was a silly girl. She had read way too much into Ron's first statement. Of course he was only glad she was back because he wanted help with the animals.

"I never thought I would say this," Enid joked, "but I'm glad to be back too." There was a time when she hated this town. But that was before she had people here she cared about. Ron laughed.

"I heard you saw some crazy shit out there," he mentioned. Really no one had told Ron anything. No one ever told him anything. But he saw Enid and Carl come flying in on lathered horses and then all the heavy hitters around here had taken off with loaded up with guns. So Ron figured there had to be some kind of trouble. Honestly, he was a little jealous of Carl, being that the boy was almost the same age as him but yet he seemed to be allowed so many more privileges. If Ron would have even mentioned leaving the safety of the walls and going camping for weeks for no real reason, his mother would throw the fit to beat all fits. She didn't even like him going out to the lake. And of course there was Enid. The only girl his age. Before Carl came around, Ron had been hoping something might happen between them. Now it was like she barely knew he existed. Just another reason to be jealous.

Enid and Ron walked along at a casual pace. She tried to keep Comet away from the apple she was nibbling on as she filled Ron in on the adventure that she and Carl had. Telling it all made all the events sound even crazier than she remembered them being in her head. Ron's mouth dropped open a few times, especially when she told him about her and Rowan riding into that camp with their faces painted up like crazy indians. He wasn't sure if he believed her about the tiger, but he also couldn't think of any reason that Enid would have to make something like that up.

When Enid went into the goat enclosure, Ron followed her. He made sure to keep an eye on the large white goat that liked to knock him down any time he turned his back on the animal. It looked like the goat was thinking about having a go at Enid, but as soon as she hollered at it, the silly thing took off running in the other direction.

"That damn goat 'sbeen after me every damn day," Ron announced. He turned the hose nozzle on and started filling the trough with fresh water. "He didn't come near you..."

"That's 'cause last time he tried it I smacked him up good with a rolled up magazine," Enid explained. That goat was nothing but a big bully. She only had to hit him back once and he never bothered her again. Ron laughed. The goat never really bothered Rowan because if he even got neat her the dogs would chase him off.

"Maybe I'll try that," Ron mentioned, still watching over his shoulder for the goat.

The horses had followed them into the goat enclosure. Enid didn't know what had gotten into them but they were full of energy. Maybe it was the change in the weather. The moon is almost full, Enid thought. Then she smiled at herself. She had been spending too much time with Rowan. That woman thought the weather caused everything. People argued more during certain phases of the moon. After a rain was the best time to start a new project. The more it snowed the more people would get pregnant.

"Going to have to take them for a run if Carl ever gets up," Enid mentioned casually, watching the horses play. She had really been talking more to herself than Ron. Making a mental list of things she wanted to get done before dinner time. And a long ride around the lake with Carl sounded much more enjoyable than sweating it up in the garden all day. They could stop at the cabin on the other side of the lake. Go for a swim. Maybe even pack a lunch and make a day out of it.

"I can help you with the horses," Ron offered. Enid startled a little when he spoke to her. She had gotten lostin her thoughts and almost forgotten Ron was there. When she didn't respond right away to his suggestion, he added, "I'm a good rider, used to go trail riding with my mom back before the turn."

Enid considered the idea, mostly trying to think up a good reason why she needed to wait for Carl. Nothing was coming to mind, except for reasons she couldn't say out loud the involved what she and Carl liked to do when they took the horses out riding. And Ron seemed so eager for a horse ride. He wasn't exactly Enid's favorite person but she didn't dislike him either. Everyone knew he watched his dad die in front of his face last year. She had lost her parents too, and felt empathy for Ron even though she knew his dad was a dick that got what he deserved. Enid didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Uh, okay," she agreed, "we can take them out for a quick ride."


	25. Chapter 25

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 25

Taking the horses for a ride with Ron wasn't as bad as Enid thought it would be. Not at first. Enid rode Molly, she had always been a little harder to control, and she let Ron ride Comet. The two of them made it about halfway around the lake without an incident. Then a walker stumbled out into their path. If Carl had been with her, Enid knew they would have probably just ignored the mindless stumbling creature and rode around it. Either that or one of them would have gotten down and stabbed the thing in it's head. Seeing and killing walkers had long since ceased to be a novelty to Enid. In her mind they had simply become more of a nuisance than someone to be excited about or terrified of.

While they had been camping on the road, Enid had to admit that she had gotten used to having Daryl and Rowan around. Maybe she had even gotten a little lazy. Daryl had a bow and Rowan had her sling shot. Both were silent and longer range weapons that had reuseable ammunition. When a walker came, one of them would usually take care of it before it got this close to the horses. Enid froze a moment, trying to decide what to do. Then she saw Ron fumbling for the gun in the holster on his waist. It was obvious from the trouble he was having just getting it out of the holster that he had no idea what he was doing with the gun. He was scared. And Comet was the type of horse that picked up on the stress level of the person riding him. The horse started prancing nervously, backing away from the smell of death.

"Just leave it Ron," Enid called out, finally finding her voice, "Ride around it!"

"I can get it," he insisted. Ron had no idea how to use the gun in his hands. He wasn't even holding it right. Enid tried to remember a time when she had seen him fire a gun and realized she couldn't even remember seeing him with one before. Rick offered everyone in town shooting lessons, but not everyone took him up on his offer. Ron's mother said he was too young to learn.

Comet was backing away, tossing his head around and snorting. The horse had turned in a way that put the walker directly in front of it. It's head was blocking Ron from getting a clear shot of the walker he was aiming at.

"Stop Ron!" Enid wasn't suggesting anything this time. She was yelling at him now, afraid her horse was about to get shot.

Ron ignored her, trying to lean around the horse's large head. He was holding the gun all wrong. Even if he wasn't on the back of a nervous horse the gun was still going to kick back and hit him in the face. He had picked the wrong gun for a novice shooter, choosing the gun he thought looked the coolest instead of picking one he might be able to shoot straight with.

Enid felt like she was watching the scene in slow motion. Ron's hand was squeezing tighter and tighter. Gripping the gun harder. Comet was tossing his head around, hair flipping and blowing in the slight breeze. The loud popping snap of the gun being fired shattered the silence. Ron didn't come anywhere close to hitting the walker her was aiming for, but he did manage to clip the corner of Comet's ear. The gun kicked back. He got lucky there, instead of the gun slamming back and into his face, he hit himself in the face with his forearm with a dull smacking thud. Ron dropped the gun as the horse reared up, using both hands to grip the sadle and keep from being thrown. Comet reared again, trampling the walker that had lunged towards the loud sound of the gun and the panicked cries of the horse. Hard hooves squashed into the rotting flesh with a sickening crunch of the skull. Then Comet took off running.

Enid swore. Every dirty word she knew came flowing out of her mouth as she turned Molly towards the runaway horse and kicked her heels in. Comet was running on sheer fear and adrenaline but Molly was by far the faster of the two horses. It wasn't long before Enid could see the back flanks of the lighter colored horse ahead of her. Ron had managed to stay on the horse, which surprised her. He had lost his grip on the reigns and was leaning forward, gripping Comet by the mane to stop himself from falling off.

The horse was scared, but it had burned off some of it's energy running at full speed through the woods. And it knew Enid. Enid was one of the people the horse associated with food and loving care. When she whistled long and loud for the horse, Comet finally slowed to a stop. Ron's eyes were wide with fear. When he lifted his hands to scrub at his face they were shaking badly. At least he didn't pee his pants, Enid thought. She had no desire to spend the day scrubbing his piss out of her favorite leather saddle.

"Get the reigns," she told him. To his credit, Ron nodded and did as he was told. Comet was going to live but his ear was bleeding. Enid knew she needed to get the horse back to camp and clean the wound, make sure the bleeding stopped or suture it somehow. Maybe take Comet to medical. Rosita wasn't a vet but Enid figured all bleeding wounds were about the same no matter if they were on a human or a horse.

"Comet will follow Molly," Enid assured the boy, "just follow me back to town, alright?" Ron nodded again, his face still pale white. He was breathing harder than the horse between his legs.

It took longer to get back to town than Enid thought it would. She had understimated how far she had followed Comet into the woods. By the time she got back Carl was waiting inside the gate for her with a small crowd of people. Enid guessed they had heard the gunshot and were forming a search party to look for her and Ron. Enid prided herself on being able to take care of herself. She was ashamed that people were having to take time out of their day to come and look for her. Taking someone as inexperienced as Ron out with her had been a mistake, one that she didn't plan to make again.

Swinging a leg over, Enid let Carl catch her by the waist and help her down from the horse. He pulled her tight against his chest, his hands fisting into the back of her multicolored tank top. She turned her head, capturing his mouth with hers. Not for as long as she would have liked, but there were surrounded by the small crowd of people that had been getting ready to go looking for her.

"We heard a gunshot," Carl said once she tore her mouth away from his, "Are you okay?" Enid nodded. Then she turned and threw a dirty look in Ron's direction.

"Comet got hit, not me," she said, "Ron tried to shoot at a walker and missed."

Carl hugged her against his chest once more, his hand rubbing her back. Enid looked frazzled, the little strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail were stuck to her face with sweat. The horses didn't look much better. Comet was still breathing hard. Once Ron climbed down from his back the horse reared up and yanked the reigns loose from his hand, shuffing over to stand behind Deanna. His ear was still bleeding and from the way the horse was tossing his head around, Carl knew the animal was in a fair amount of pain.

Carl hugged Enid tighter, crushing her to his chest. He could feel the anger as it came. Filling him up like a balloon. Comet was hurt. Enid had been put in danger. She could have been hurt or killed. And it had all happened for no good reason. Because Ron was trying to show off and shoot a gun that he had no business even handling in the first place. The anger was familiar, but with it came a new emotion. One that Carl had never felt before this day. Jealousy. Not only had Ron put Enid in danger, but as far as Carl was concerned, the other boy never should have been alone outside the walls with her in the first place. The more Carl thought about it, the more angry he became.

He didn't know how he got there. One second Carl was hugging Enid against his chest and the next he was in Ron's face. He slammed his hands against the other young man's chest, hitting him hard enough to force him back a few steps. Ron stumbled but managed to stay on his feet.

"You could've gotten her killed," Carl screamed at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Carl could hear Deanna's voice. She was telling him to stop. Then his view of Ron was blocked. Reg got in between the two boys and started gently trying to back Carl away. The man was speaking to him in a soothing tone, so much different from the way Carl's own dad spoke to him. Carl allowed the man to move him back a few steps. But then he caught another glimpse of Ron. The little shit was talking. Not to him, but to Enid. Telling her he was sorry. Ron took one step in her direction. That was his mistake.

Since Carl appeared to be cooperating, Reg didn't really have a hold on him. He only had a hand on the boy's shoulder as he tried to speak to him. Carl darted around the man, ducking under Reg's arm. It wasn't hard at all to get around him, especially since the man wasn't expecting such a sudden move. Before anyone could stop him, Carl closed the distance between himself and Ron. Ron was older and taller, since he got his height from his father. But he had no idea how to fight. He didn't know how to fight walkers and he didn't know how to fight another person. He was weak. Carl threw all his weight into the other boy, sending Ron hurling down onto the pavement with Carl on top of him. Fist already balled up, Carl got two good punches in before he was hauled up and away from the object of his aggression.

"That's enough!" Now it was his dad talking. Carl could feel the man's arms around him, under his armpits and then around the back of his neck, rendering him mostly immobile. Carl struggled against his father, kicking his legs and trying to wriggle away. Then Michonne was in his face. She had his little brother balanced on her hip and she was poking one finger of her other hand into his face.

"Stop it now," she ordered. Carl stopped. Not really because of Michonne's words, but because he saw the baby there, in the middle of what was going on. Carl still wanted to get at Ron, but he didn't want it badly enough to risk hurting his brother. Once Carl stopped struggling Rick let go of him. Unlike Reg, Rick kept close watch on his son to make sure he wasn't going to try anything else.

"Take Enid and go home," Michonne told him. She turned Carl around and gave him a little shove in the girl's direction to get him going. Enid's face was still as pale as it had been when she showed up at the gates and now she had tears in her eyes. Carl put and arm around her shoulders and did as he was told. He started walking her back to the house.

On their way they passed Ron's mother Jessie, who gave Carl a hateful glance as she hurried past them in the other direction. She was dragging her younger son along by the hand as she walked. Carl realized as they passed him that Sam was probably about the same age he had been at the beginning of the outbreak. He was old enough to start learning how to fight if his mother would only let him.


	26. Chapter 26

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 26

They had been out of toothpaste for some time now, along with many other items that had been common place before the turn and were now quickly becoming luxury items. Rown remained unaffected by these shortages. She brushed her teeth with coconut oil, baking soda, or simply a damp toothbrush and water even before the end of the world. But Daryl found himself missing toothpaste. Not deodorant or shampoo or even disposable razors. Just toothpaste.

Having dirty or missing teeth was the mark of being the ultimate in white trash. At least it was where Daryl grew up. His parents never bothered taking him to see a dentist, but he had always been careful to keep his teeth clean so they didn't rot straight out of his mouth. It was one of the few things he remembered his brother doing for him when he was very very young. Merle would drag one of their only unbroken kitchen chairs into the bathroom and lift him up to stand on the seat. Then he would make Daryl brush his teeth, sometimes stepping in to cram the toothbrush what felt like all the way down Daryl's throat to make sure even the very back teeth got cleaned.

Daryl poked through the messy bathroom cabinet, hoping to find a discarded tube of toothpaste inside somewhere and coming up empty. He finally dipped his brush into Rowan's little jar of baking soda mixed with sea salt and made quick work of cleaning his teeth, cringing at the bitter salty taste of the stuff. As he headed down the stairs he breathed into his cupped palm to check how badly his breath stunk. Continuing on despite his questionable breath, Daryl hit the squeaky stair that marked the halfway point between being upstairs and downstairs. He froze, suddenly aware that he was most of the way undressed and clothed only in the rainbow colored boxer shorts he had slept in.

He could hear the high pitched giggles of several children playing in the living room, but that wasn't what bothered him. From his place on the stairs, he could see into the living room. Carol was sitting on the couch next to Rowan's father, and for some reason the thought of her seeing him undressed made Daryl uncomfortable. It brought back his old insecurities about people seeing his scars.

Rowan had a casual attitude when it came to nudity. Her father and his wife were the same way. Not that they walked around butt naked all the time or anything, but none of them found it necessary to be fully dressed before they left their rooms in the morning. When he and Rowan first moved in here, Daryl thought it would bother him. But the truth was he quickly got used to coming down for breakfast before bothering to get dressed for the day, especially now that it was getting warmer and running the air conditioners used up too much power.

When he stepped on the squeaky stair, everyone in the living room heard him. Daryl knew he would make himself look ridiculous if he tried running back up the steps to get dressed. He squared up his shoulders. This was his damn house and he could walk around in his stupid looking shorts if he wanted to. If Carol didn't like it, she could hit the road.

There was a blanket spread out on the living room floor. Michonne's son was lying in the middle of the blanket. Judith was sitting next to him, dangling a brightly colored toy over him. The little boy was grabbing for the toy. Rowan's little brother Falcon was sitting close by, watching them with his big brown eyes. Every time the baby missed the toy he was grabbing for, he let out a big happy baby laugh, which made the other two children laugh.

Lily was resting on the floor a few feet away, keeping her eyes on the children. Daryl heard a low whine coming from the front porch, which he guessed meant Morgan had been locked out of the house, probably by Rowan's father.

"She's in the kitchen," Rowan's father informed Daryl once he finally made his way down the steps and appeared in the doorway of the living room. Whenever he saw Daryl alone, the man was always doing one of two things. Avoiding Rowan or looking for her. Since Daryl wasn't in the garage tinkering with his bike and drinking whiskey, the latter was most likely the current state of affairs. Daryl nodded. He was used to having his questions answered before he asked them. Like the partial nudity, it was another common occurance in this house.

Judith spotted him and jumped up from her play to rush over and wrap her little arms around Daryl's legs. He reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms for a hug. She made him smile and as he hugged her a joyful thought entered his mind. Soon there would be another happy baby playing on the floor with the rest. His baby. Since Rowan was convinced she was having a girl, Daryl had started picturing his daughter in his mind. A pretty baby with Rowan's dark hair and his brother's blue eyes playing on the floor with Rick's son. At one time he had thought the outbreak was the end of the world, but now it felt more like it had been the beginning of a new one.

As quickly as she had rushed over to him, Judith wiggled down and hurried back over to the blanket.

"See my brudder?," she asked, stroking the boy's curly hair like he was puppy. Depending on who had actually fathered Judith, Daryl knew there was a chance that the two children were actually not blood related at all. They certainly didn't look like siblings. But these details didn't seem to matter to the children in question, they were busy laughing at each other again.

"I see him," Daryl told the girl, "he's gettin' big." Judith smiled at what she considered to be a compliment to her baby brother and then yanked the boy half up off the floor to try and hug him.

"Gentle touches," Carol reminded the girl. Daryl gave her a nod, forgetting his earlier embarrassment. Rowan's father was sitting on the couch right next to her, and he was also shirtless, clothed only in a pair of old worn blue jeans. "There's a breakfast casserole in the oven," Carol told him.

"Thought you were done making casseroles?," Daryl teased. That made Rowan's father laugh. Carol rolled her eyes, un unusual expression from the woman. Now that Daryl was looking at her, he noticed Carol's cheeks were flushed and he didn't think it had anything to do with his presence either.

"Well, we've got to eat," she admitted. Daryl had always been observant, and the way he was looking her over was making her feel even more self concious than she already felt. Her face was hot and she was sure her cheeks were pink. "There's ham," she added. He words had the intended affect. Daryl turned and hurried off into the kitchen.

Carol crossed her legs and then uncrossed them, still trying her best to ignore Rowan's father. This was easier said than done, since he was half dressed and sitting rather close to her on the couch. He had been staring at her since she showed up, smirking every time he caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Carol found her eyes were drawn to his scars. Not just the old faded W on his forehead, but the ones on his chest. They were mostly little cuts, but there were two larger ones that looked like knife wounds. Healed slash marks that stood out white against the tanned skin of his chest. But the worst scar was on his upper arm, just below the shoulder where he had been bit by a walker. A chunk of flesh was missing, and whoever had tended the wound, probably Rowan, had clearly been more concerned with saving his life than they had been in how his arm would look once it finally healed up. The twisted flesh around the old wound made Carol feel a strange sort of grudging respect for the man. If nothing else, he was a survivor.

Unlike Daryl, who was always careful to keep his scars covered to avoid the stares and questions that came with showing them to people, Rowan's father wore his scars more like a soldier would wear a medal of honor. He was confident in his own skin. When he noticed Carol's eyes had shifted towards the scar on his arm he turned his shoulders slightly to give her a better look at the worst part of the mark. When Carol realized he had caught her looking, she had quickly shifted her eyes back to the children she was tending. She ignored the soft chuckle that came from the man. Thankfully Daryl had chosen that moment to come squeaking down the steps wearing what had to be about the most ridiculous getup she had ever seen.

Carol ignored the man beside her, feeling her face getting even warmer. She fought the urge to bring her cool hands up and press her palms against her cheeks. It felt like the more she tried not to think about how attractive the man next to her was the more she thought about it. He was muscular, but not in the pumped way Daryl was. Like his daughter, Rowan's father had a slimmer build. Slim but still broad through the shoulders. His body was wiry and hard looking from constant use and all the time he still spent out on the road. Normally his hair was tied back in a long braid but at the moment it was hanging down loose around his face, still slightly rumpled from sleep. His body was hairless except for a sparse trail of dark hair that started just below his belly button and led down into the waistband of the old worn pair of jeans he had on.

Rowan's father was well aware of the effect he was having on the woman sitting next to him. This was not the first time he had noticed Carol. Mature women had always held a certain appeal for him. Regardless of age Carol was an atttractive woman, but more than that he found her interesting and even a little mysterious. He had not been intrigued by a woman since he met Rowan's mother. His wife Nokake was a good woman and he cared for her. She had given him a strong healthy son and that was not a gift to be taken lightly. But being married to her wasn't exactly mentally stimulating. Their union had been born out of convenience and physical need, not out of love.

Stretching his shoulders out, Gray Wolf put his arm across the back of the couch, letting it rest against Carol's shoulders. She reacted to his touch immediately. Like the heat of his touch had burned her, she quickly jerked forward away from his arm. She finally turned and met his gaze head on, opening her mouth to speak.

The woman stuttered and stammered out a few half form before she finally spit out, "Aren't you married?" Instead of making the man feel ashamed of himself, her words made him smile.

"Aren't you living down the street with that wasichu Tobin?," he asked, answering her question with a question of his own. Carol was more than well aware that the foriegn word Rowan's father had spoken was a derogartory term for a white man. But the way he said it, with a teasing tone and a slight raise of the eyebrow made her realize what he was doing. This man was baiting her. And she refused to be baited. She was not going to be made to sit here and defend her feelings for Tobin. Instead she ignored the man's remark and gathered the children up, telling Judith it was time for them to take Andy home so his momma could feed him.

TWD

With thoughts of eggs and ham on his mind, Daryl headed for the kitchen. Their house had a large kitchen, with a big butcher block island in the middle. Because of this it had become a popular place for people to come and work on whatever various cooking projects Rowan was involved in. While she loved music and dancing, Rowan wasn't particular about what she listened to, always opting to let whoever was helping her choose the music. Because of this, Daryl could tell who visiting by the sort of music that was playing. Rock meant Spencer was over. Country usually meant Jessie or Deanna. And if he heard dance music or showtunes, Daryl knew Olivia and Eric were probably in his kitchen. Normally that type of music would annoy him, but he had quickly come to associate it with fresh cheese. Today there was only the sound of the blender being pulsed, so Daryl knew Rowan was alone in the kitchen.

As he had expected, Rowan was in the kitchen by herself. Tank was her only company, lying under the table with his head resting on his paws. Rowan pulsed the blender a few more times, wrinkling up her nose while she tried to decide if she was happy with the consistency of whatever she was blending up. Her hair was still wrapped up in a large sloppy bun on top of her head, a few turkey feathers dangling from the lengths of it. She was still wearing the oversized t-shirt she had pulled on the night before to sleep in, leaving her legs bare from her thighs down to her feet. Several bracelets were wrapped around each of her ankles, including the ones that she had gotten from home. Those were the intricate ones that wrapped around the ankle but also came down and circled around her middle toe, making it look like she had sandals on even though the bottom of her feet were bare. There were several silver toe rings winking against the pattern of her tattoos on her right foot.

The sight of his wife's very well dressed feet made Daryl smile. He slid in behind her, reaching his hands up under her shirt. Only Rowan would take the time to put several pieces of jewelery on each foot and then not bother to pull on a pair of underpants. He followed the curve of her waist up with one hand, cupping her breast. With the other he ghosted over her hip and let his hand rest on the small outward curve of her stomach, his pinky finger extending down into the soft patch of hair between her legs. She hummed her pleasure at his touch, arching her back so that his pinky finger slid a little closer to the spot where it would feel the best.

Daryl leaned down and forward to kiss the exposed flesh of her neck and immediately regretted it. Rowan chose that moment to open the blender and the stink that came out of it sent Daryl reeling back, the hand he had been using to caress her now clamped down over his nose and mouth.

"What in the fuck is that?," he cursed.

"Spring tonic," she happily annouced, somehow unaffected by the stink of the nasty green muck, "I made enough for both of us.". She was still talking much louder than normal, unable to fully hear herself with one busted eardrum. Rowan poured the sloppy mixture evenly into two glasses, then held one out for Daryl. "It's good for you," she encouraged. Since Daryl was acting like the stuff she made might kill them both, Rowan picked up her glass and took a big swig to show him how it was done.

"Nothing that smells that bad can be good for you," Daryl insisted, stepping back a few more steps before he took his hand away from his mouth. There was no way he was taking even one sip out of that glass and honestly he really wasn't sure Rowan ought to be drinking that slop either. It was green and thick and smelled like a head of raw garlic had sex with a dirty sock.

"Fine," Rowan announced, "If you don't want yours, I'll just give it to Tank." Daryl shrugged and wiped his hair out of his eyes. He tried not to smile as he watched Rowan set her glass down on the counter. She crouched down and held the other glass out towards her dog. Always eager to nibble and anything Rowan had to offer him, the big dog moved to sniff at the contents of the glass. Once he got a good snort, Tank's sleepy eyes opened wide. He jerked his head back and scrambled to his feet, almost knocking the table over in his attempt to get as far away from the horrible stink as fast as possible. One of the chairs clattered to the floor and then Tank was gone. He didn't just run into the next room, Daryl heard the dog's heavy tread on the stairs and then all the way down the upstairs hall to their bedroom to hide behind the bed. Daryl couldn't hold it in any longer, he exploded with laughter.

"It's not _that_ bad," Rowan insisted, sniffing at the mixture herself. That only made Daryl laugh harder. She shook her head at the silly man and went back to slurping at the drink she had made for herself. Smelly or not, the tonic had loads of iron and other vitamins in it that she knew were good for her and the baby growing inside her belly.

The timer on the stove started buzzing, bringing Rowan's father in from the next room. He had Falcon in his arms. Handing the boy off to Rowan first, he swung the oven door open and used a towel to pull out a large foil covered glass baking dish. Setting the dish on top of the oven, he pulled the foil off so the food inside could have a chance to cool down enough to be eaten. Unlike the stink of the tonic, the good smells of meat and melted cheese made Daryl's stomach start to grumble. Carol seemed happier now that she was watching the wall and contributing to the safety and security of Alexandria, but on a more selfish note he missed her cooking. Not that Rowan couldn't cook, but down home southern style baking wasn't really her thing.

Daryl watched Rowan with her brother. She cuddled the boy close, kissing him on the soft round curves of both his cheeks. From the smile on the boy's face, it was easy to see how much he adored the woman that was holding him. She was going to be be a good mother, caring for others just came natural to her. It filled Daryl with a mixture of joy and relief to know that his child was going to grow up in a loving home, and not in the abusive environment he had been forced to endure.

Rowan's father came towards her, offering to take the baby back. She shook her head, wanting to hold her brother a bit longer. Rowan smiled at her father, which made Daryl smile since he knew that meant the two of them had made up after their fight in the RV. The man put a gentle hand on the side of her face, pulling Rowan close so he could plant a kiss on the side of her forehead. Then he did something Daryl was not expecting. He willingly picked up one of the glasses of sloppy green muck that were sitting near Rowan on the counter. Rowan nodded, indicating that her father could have what was inside the glass.

Without hesitation, Rowan's father tilted the glass back and chugged the entire contents of the glass down in a few slurpy gulps. He set the glass in the sink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he smiled at Rowan.

"Mmmm, Spring tonic," he said, sounding to Daryl like there was some small chance the man had actually enjoyed the smelly disgusting mixture. Rowan had her glass in her hand again, drinking down the rest. When she got done chugging the slop down she hiccuped and let out a burp that Daryl was very glad he wasn't close enough to her to be able to smell. Even her baby brother was cringing away from her, tilting his body to indicate he wanted to be let down onto the floor. She let him down and stood up with a look of excitement on her face. Her hands flew to her stomach, pressing her baggy shirt against her body.

"I told you that was good stuff," Rowan teased, smiling at Daryl, "Now I can feel the baby kicking." Since the day they listened to the heartbeat, Daryl had not been able to feel the baby. And it wasn't due to lack of trying. Anytime they were alone, he had his hands all over her. The last few nights he had fallen asleep with his hand over the small hard swell of Rowan's stomach. Daryl rushed over, letting her guide his hand to the spot where she had felt movement only a few seconds before. She held his hand tight against her, pressing his larger fingers in with her smaller ones. They both held their breath and waited in anticipation, not noticing that Rowan's father had quickly gathered up his son and cleared out of the kitchen in a discreet attempt to give them some privacy.

Rowan's father hadn't seen two people that excited about having a baby in a long time. The joy was catching, and anything that gave his daughter that much joy made him happy for her. He entered back into the living room with a smile on his face to find Carol standing in the open doorway. This time she was without the two children she had shown up with earlier.

"Missed me already?," Rowan's father asked her. His smile was genuine this time, not the teasing smirk he had been giving her earlier. There was no denying he was an attractive man, but when he smiled he was really handsome. There was a tooth missing on one side of his mouth, the one right behind the eye tooth. It gave him a roguish air and Carol found herself smiling back at him before she could stop herself.

"I forgot I was cooking breakfast for everyone over here," she admitted.


	27. Chapter 27

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 27

The pile of weeds was growing as they worked. The wheelbarrow was full. Green stalks flecked with dirt were mounded up and hanging down over the sides. The whole mess was looking like it was ready to lean and topple over into the ground they had pulled it out of. Olivia sighed before she got up, brushing some of the dirt that had collected on her cloth gardening gloves off onto her thighs.

Enid turned towards the sound of nails being hammered, shading her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. She glanced around for Carl, hoping that he might show up. His dad had been keeping him on a pretty short leash since he had gotten into that fight with Ron. And Rick was still out doing round around the outside of the wall, which meant that's what Carl was doing as well.

The finishing touches were being put on the large greenhouse that Reg had designed in the hopes that it would keep them in fresh vegetables during the cold virginia winter. The day was warm and most of the men that were working on the construction project had long since abandoned their shirts. Olivia and Michonne had been teasing each other, making comments about the nice view they had. And for all her talk of the naked form being natural and functional, Enid had even caught Rowan taking a few quick peeks when Daryl was up on the ladder.

"I think we have enough green beans to feed an army," Olivia announced, setting the now empty wheelbarrow back down and looking over all the five gallon buckets they had lined up near the walking path.

"It seems like a lot now," Rowan agreed, nodding her head, "but..." Her words faded off, leaving her gentle objection hanging in the air around them. It seemed like they had all the food in the world. Now. But it was the middle of growing season. Rowan wasn't good at math, but she had lived in a community that self sustained almost all her life. She knew just by looking that the amount of food they were growing was far too small for a community with as many people as Alexandria had. Rowan was trying to stay positive, but the truth was that you needed about a half acre dedicated to food growing for each person that you were planning to feed during the winter. Right now they had about enough to sustain two large families. Not an entire town.

Alexandria made it through the last winter on all the canned goods and supplies they had emptied from any store within a twenty-five mile radius, plus the stockpile Rowan and Daryl had found in the underground bunker. But all of that was gone now. Stores full of supplies and food were getting harder and harder to come by. The woods around the town had been overhunted. The deer and other larger animals had long since cleared out of the area. Unless the one of the run teams happened upon a miracle, Rowan knew people were not going to have enough to eat come winter.

"But what?," Enid asked, speaking quietly so that she didn't catch the attention of anyone that wasn't already listening to them. Rowan just shook her head.

"You don't think this will be enough?," Michonne asked, shifting the large brimmed hat she was wearing so that her son was shaded from the sun. When she was working in the gardens, Michonne strapped the boy to her back with a long length of stretchy fabric that tied under her breasts. The motion combined with the feel of having his mother so close usually put the boy to sleep within a few minutes. Today was no exception. His round baby cheek was resting between her shoulder blades, the wild curls on his head bouncing in time to the rythym of her movements. Rowan reached over and touched his cheek, grazing it softly with the knuckles of her hand.

Seeing that Michonne had turned her shrewd eyes on her, Rowan knew she wasn't getting out of giving a straight answer. "No," she admitted, "I don't think this will be enough." Rowan lived her life trying to find the postive in everyone and every situation. But there was a difference between being positive and being blind to a problem.

"You think or you know?," Michonne asked. She had just been thinking she was looking at all the food in the world. More than anyone could ever consume. But she trusted Rowan. If Rowan said there was going to be a problem, then there was probably going to be a problem.

"I know," Rowan said, speaking quietly before reached over and distracted herself again by brushing Michonne's son's hair back out of his face with her hand. Rowan's dark eyebrows knitted together, betraying how worried she really was. Michonne rested a comforting hand on the other woman's slim shoulder.

"I'll talk to Rick," she assured her. Rowan nodded and smiled at her, leaning in to give the dark skinned woman a light kiss on the cheek. Rick and Daryl cared about each other like brothers, which Rowan liked to think made her and Michonne sisters. They didn't have much in common, but Rowan still cared for her and considered Michonne part of the small tight knit group that was more like a family than a circle of friends. She had become like a mother to Enid, and Rowan thought the growing bong between them was beautiful to see.

"At least we got enough for dinner tonight," Olivia anounced cheerfully, eager to change to subject. Whenever people started talking about food running out it made her feel extremely self concious about her weight. She knew she didn't ever eat more than her fair share, but being fat in a time where not everyone had enough food made her feel guilty and embarrassed. "What are you making for the party Roe?," she asked.

The subject turned from food and supplies to the traditional welcome home party they had anytime one of their small group came back in from being on the road. The group that used to only include the close foursome of Rowan, Olivia, Aaron and Eric had greatly expanded over the last year. There were so many people that came to the parties now that there wasn't room for all of them in Aaron's house. Deanna had agreed to host the dinner in her much larger home. To keep Deanna's home from being completely devestated, they were planning to go out and have a bonfire near Rowan's teepee after they ate. There was going to be some drinking, some storytelling and possibly even some dancing depending on how much drinking people did.

TWD

Daryl's contribution to the party had only taken a few minutes of his time. Rowan's father pulled a large side of venison out of the chest freezer they had in their basement the day before and put in kitchen sink to defrost. Daryl helped him cut it up. Rowan's father chopped up a bunch of herbs from one of Rowan's gardens and Daryl stirred the meat to coat them well in the mixture. Once they got to Deanna's house they would thread the meat onto reuable metal skewers and toss them on the grill.

Rowan was working in the kitchen on the other side of the large butcher block table. She was making some sort of salad, using raw vegetables and herbs along with some cooked grains from the amaranth she had grown in their backyard near her sunflowers. Tank and Lily were lying under the kitchen table. Morgan, the only dog not tired from running around in the gardens all afternoon, was stalking around the kitchen continuously bumping into Rowan's father's legs in the hopes that the man might accidentally drop a piece of meat on the floor for the dog to gobble up.

Rowan bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. Her father was the toughest man she knew. He had faced down and beaten every enemy they had faced out in the beyond. Murderers, raiders, rapists, people that had tried to take their things and hurt them. Even that group of bikers they had run into on the way back from twin oaks. Nothing could shake him. But now he was about to be brought to his breaking point by nothing more than a large white puppy who had a penchant for knowing just the right ways to annoy him.

Placing her salad in the fridge, Rowan smacked her leg and called the large white dog over to her. Morgan made sure to slam his tail into her father one last time as he crossed the kitchen. Daryl turned his back on the man and Rowan could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was shaking with silent laughter. Her father cursed under his breath, his body tensing and his fists clenching before he took a few deep breaths and forced his body to relax again. Rowan had been convinced for some time now that her friend Morgan's spirit was working through the dog that had been named for him. Her father had a problem with his anger turning violent and she hoped the dog constantly bugging him might help him to develop some new coping techniques. After all he loved animals almost as much as she did. He had locked Morgan out of the house a few times but she knew he would never actually hurt the dog. Rowan believed Morgan was teaching the man patience and restraint. At the very least he was providing her with some good entertainment.

Since Morgan was cruising for tidbits, Rowan decided it was time to feed all her dogs. She pulled a few large cans of wet dog food down from a large cupboard near the backdoor. The sound brought both Lily and Tank to their feet and Rowan kicked the backdoor open. Her pregnancy was making her more sensitive to smells and the aroma of wet dog food wasn't something she had found appealing even before she had a baby in her belly. Plus the dogs made a mess when they ate. So she fed them out on the back porch, leaving the door cracked open so Tank could get back in when he was done eating. Lily and Morgan would be happy to stay outside together, but Tank would start up with his howling and barking if he couldn't get to Rowan.

"We have a little while until dinner," Rowan said once she stepped back inside the kitchen, "Maybe I'll go wash my hair..." The tone of her voice caught Daryl's attention. When she was thinking about jumping on him, the pitch of her voice always got a little lower. It was subtle enough that no one else around would have noticed the change, but when she talked like that it always made his dick twitch in his pants. She was leaning against the doorframe, the tip of her finger tracing a little invisible pattern on the wall next to her. Her eyes were focused on him, and as they skated down the length of his body her gaze lingered on his hips. There was a little smile playing at the corners of her lips and as her eyes rose up to meet his, the tip of her tounge flicked out to wet her fuller bottom lip.

She wasn't moving but she wasn't really standing still either. Her hips swayed, swiveling a little as she lifted one of her heels off the floor, put it down and then lifted the other one. She was stretching her calves out like she was getting ready to do a lot more than wash her hair in the shower. Daryl leaned back against the counter.

"Should be plenty a' hot water," he told her, using a tone that implied he had no interest in her or the heated looks she was giving him. He was playing with her. She knew he was. And he knew she knew. But it still amused him to tease her just a little. Rowan had never been shy when it came to sex. She initiated it as often as he did. But he had noticed a change in her lately. Unless he had suddenly become significatly more attractive in the last few days, Daryl guessed the changes in Rowan's demeanor were likely due to the hormones that came along with being pregnant. It wasn't what she liked to do in bed that had changed, it was the way she looked at him that was different. There was a gleam in her eyes that hadn't been there before. The way she stared at his body now could almost be described as predatory. It had thrown him off a little a first, but Daryl quickly decided that he didn't mind feeling like he was the hottest man his wife had ever seen.

Rowan gave Daryl one one lingering glance before she shrugged her shoulders and pushed herself away from the doorframe. She walked slowly through the kitchen with a purpose to her movements. Her hips swug back and forth suggestively and before she even made it out of the room Daryl had cleared the butcher block island and was hurrying her along towards the stairs with his hand on her lower back.

Daryl's game of pretending he didn't want to shower with her was long gone before it even really started. By the time they hit the steps that woud lead them up to the bedroom they shared Rowan and Daryl were racing each other. They went pounding and running up the steps like children in their hurry to get at each other. Rowan could hear her father's laughter drifting out of the kitchen. Daryl kicked their bedroom door shut behind him as he yanked his shirt off over his head. Before it hit the floor Rowan had raked his boxers down along with his pants. She shoved them down until they scrunched up around his ankles, caught on his socks.

Her body followed the movements of her eager hands, lowering down until she was kneeling in front of him. gripping the base of his growing erection with one hand, she pulled it away from his belly and wrapped her lips around him. Rowan closed her eyes, a moan vibrating in her throat that made him moan even louder. Her mouth was warm and her wet tounge was lapping circles around him. What she was doing to him felt so good that for a moment Daryl considered giving in and letting her bring him to his climax with a few more strokes of her tounge but instead he backed up quickly and hauled her up onto her feet.

"I was just getting started," she whispered, her voice thick from how hard and fast she was breathing. Daryl didn't answer her, he just wrapped his arms around her and held her close until they both stopped breathing so hard. Then he gripped the tank top she was wearing and lifted it up and off. She quickly rid herself of the much detested bra she was now forced to wear since her breasts had decided to double in size. Next she wiggled off the cotton shorts she had worn to keep herself cool while she was gardening. She had not worn any shoes or socks, just the ankle bracelets she had put on that morning.

As Daryl struggled with the tangled up boot and pants and underwear mess, Rowan climbed into bed and rested her head on her favorite fluffy pillow to wait for him. He had finally managed to get one boot off before he stumbled and bumped into the dresser. The other boot followed the first and then Daryl was climbing into bed to settle himself between the freckled flesh of her thighs.

"Are you alright?," she asked him before she pulled him down to kiss him. He had knocked his shoulder into that hard wooden dresser with an audible thump.

"I'm jus' fine," he assured her between kisses. Her genuine concern for him and his well being always hit Daryl hard in the center of his chest. No one had ever cared about him before. Not like Rowan did. Even though he wasn't hurt at all, she still had to plant a few small kisses on the shoulder he had bumped into the dresser before she was satisfied. He returned the favor by kissing her back. Across her collarbone and then down the center of her chest until he got to her breasts. The pale undersides of her breasts were the only place on her body where she was void of freckles. He kissed the tender flesh there before he sucked the hard pink bud of her nipple into his mouth.

Suckling one, he pinched lightly at her other breast until Rowan was squirming beneath him. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes were closed again. As he moved up, lining himself up with her slick opening he felt her arm come between their bodies, her hand pressing flat against the center of his chest. She was feeling his heartbeat. It wasn't something she did all the time, but she did it often enough that Daryl knew why she was doing it. She liked to feel the beat of his heart when he was inside her. If they were making a slower more gentle sort of love sometimes she would breath in time with him as well. But he knew that wasn't going to happen today. As soon as he pushed inside her, Rowan sucked in her breath. She immediately started making the quiet little high pitched noises that he knew meant she was already coming.

Putting so much weight on her with the hard swell of her growing stomach between them still made him nervous. But Daryl reminded himself that Rowan had assured him almost daily that if he wasn't hurting her, he wouldn't hurt their baby. He still didn't pump into her as hard as he would have liked to with the way she was hitching her breath and moaning. But even moving slower, the hard hot press of her walls around him had him coming with her before he even meant to.

Daryl collapsed on top of her. Rowan held him close, enjoying the solid weight of him for the few seconds before he rolled off and tucked his body into hers. She turned and let him cuddle in behind her so they were lying like two spoons on edge. Her entire body felt deliciously relaxed and after spending most of the day in the hot sun she could feel her eyelids starting to droop.

"Better get up before we fall asleep," she mumbled halfheartedly. There was really no place she would rather be. Daryl grunted his displeasure at the thought of being forced out of bed. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. Rowan blinked her sleepy eyes open. "The partys fer us," she reminded him, "they're going to notice if we're not there." Daryl smiled into the back of her neck. They spent so much time togther she had picked up a few of his southern drawl slurs. Fer. Yer. Ner. Combined with her Sioux accent, that shit was so cute it was damn near precious.

Despite his best efforts to keep her in bed with him, Rowan wriggled away and climbed to her feet. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, listening to the soft rustling sounds of Rowan as she picked up the clothing that had been tossed to the floor in their hurry to get at each other's naked flesh. Daryl remembered that they both still needed to shower and suddenly the thought of getting out of bed was sounding more and more appealing. Their love making session had been over too fast for his tastes and he was thinking he might try soaping Rowan up under the warm spray of water and going for another round. Even if that didn't happen he loved it when she washed his hair for him.

Daryl jumped up out of bed. He heard Rowan's frightened gasp. But more than that he felt her fear like a hard punch in the gut. Daryl glanced around the room, looking for any possible signs of danger. But all he saw was Rowan. She was standing near the dresser holding a Tarot card in her shaking hands.

"What's wrong?," Daryl asked, closing the small distance between them and wrapping his arms around her. He could feel the rest of the deck sliding against the floor under his feet. When Daryl looked down he noticed that all of the cards besides the one Rowan had in her hands were facedown.

"When you bumped the dresser my mom's cards fell," Rowan told him. Her voice came out more like a whimper.

"I'm so sorry baby," Daryl told her, "I didn't mean to ruin them." Rowan shook her head.

"It's not that," she said, tilting the card in her hands so he could see the image printed on it. The picture was a detailed drawing of a human anatomical heart with three wicked looking swords stabbing through it. Daryl fought off a chill that was creeping up his spine. "The whole deck fell face down except this one."

"What does it mean," Daryl asked. Before he even spoke the words he knew he didn't want to hear the answer. Whatever that card meant it was nothing good.

"Grief. Heartbreak. Sorrow. And a painful separation from a loved one," Rowan said. Her eyes were starting to fill with tears. Daryl could stand a lot, but he couldn't stand to see her cry. He snatched the card from Rowan's hand. His first impulse was to rip it to shreds. The only thing that stopped him was that he knew how special Rowan's mother's cards were to her. So instead he moved Rowan gently back and gathered up the rest of the cards from the floor. Daryl stacked them into a neat pile and put them away in the top drawer of the dresser they shared. Then he gathered Rowan into his arms.

"You weren't even reading them when that happened," he said as he stroked his hand over her back, "Don't mean nothing."

Rowan pulled back and looked into his eyes. She thought about telling him the truth. That there was no such thing as a coincidence. That her mother was warning her of dark times to come that they noth needed to be prepared for. But Rowan could see that Daryl was just as scared as she was. Maybe even more scared since he considered it his personal responsibility to keep her and his unborn child safe from any and all harm. He needed to believe that the cards falling when he bumped into the dresser was nothing more than cards falling because he bumped into the dresser. Rowan wiped her tears away and straightened up her shoulders.

"You're right," she told him with a soft sad smile, "I'm sorry I was being so silly about it. Let's go shower up so we can get to the party on time." She had always been a terrible liar. But so often people believed what they wanted to believe. And she could see the desired affect of her words on Daryl. He was smiling again.

Daryl hugged her one more time, wiping her tears from her cheeks with the rough tips of his fingers before he headed for the bathroom and turned on the water. He called to Rowan to see if she was coming in with him. She got all the way to the open door before she turned back. Rowan knew she was making a mistake before she got her hand on the dresser drawer and yanked it open. But it felt like the cards were calling her. She had to look. She had to know. When Daryl picked the cards up she had watched him closely. The three of swords should be safely shoved somewhere in the middle of the deck. Rowan picked up the top card. She felt like she was watching herself in slow motion, unable to stop what was happening as she turned the card over in her hands to view the image on the other side.

It should have been impossible but in her hands she was holding the same card she had been holding a few moments before. The three of swords. Except this time there was blood dripping from the wounded heart. Real blood that dribbled over her fingers and dripped onto the floor at her feet.


	28. Chapter 28

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 28

They had been living in Alexandria for over over a year now. Actually living instead of just trying their best not to die. The dead were always a constant threat. But the last serious fight with another group had been with the wolves. Which meant it had been almost over a year of peace without any serious threats. But Rick still patrolled the walls, checking for weak spots and signs that other people might be hanging around outside. He wasn't doing it every single day anymore. But he still came out a few times a week. Walking the walls was boring, but boring in a good way. Boring meant no one was trying to kill them. The only thing that was different about this particular boring day was that Carl was walking with him.

After Carl's fight with Ron, Rick had been keeping his son close. Rick knew the boy saw it as a punishment, but he had not brought the boy out with him as some intended form of torture. Rather he meant to have a serious talk with his son. In the old world, Carl would have been entering his second year of high school. The biggest concern the boy might have had was getting his driver's permit. But the end of the world had changed things.

Carl was becoming a man. And he was doing it without much guidance from his own father. Rick knew he had become preoccupied with Michonne and their new baby, as newlyweds and parents of a newborn were apt to do. The rest of the free time Rick had was often spent either with Judith or on his duties to Alexandria. Rick knew Carl was capable of taking care of himself. He had been for years now. But Rick still felt a little guilty for not devoting enough of his time to parenting his oldest son.

The two men walked without talking for most of the route that led around the outer wall of their town. The day was warm, but not oppressively hot. The sun was shining down through the trees above and there was just enough of a breeze to keep them from getting too sweaty as they walked around the outside of the second expansion that had been built to house the new greenhouse, another half acre of gardens, and a second pasture for Alexandria's ever expanding herd of goats and horses. From inside the walls, Rick could hear Abraham's loud guffaw over the pounding of nails. Closer to the edge there were more voices, these being higher pitched and more feminine sounding. Carl was walking ahead of Rick, keeping Michonne's big dog next to him with a small length of rope tied to the dog's collar. From the way both boy and beast stared longingly at the large metal wall as they walked, Rick guessed two of the voices on the other side must belong to Michonne and Enid.

The metal was hot against his hand, but Rick climbed up the support beams until he got high enough that he could peek over the top of the wall. Sure enough he saw the small group of women he expected to see. Michonne, Enid, Rowan and Olivia were picking beans and weeding together. The group often included other women from the town, but he had noticed that those four tended to band close together. It still felt strange to see Michonne picking beans instead of patrolling with him, but he was getting more and more used to it. There was no doubt in his mind that she could still fight if she needed to, but he was glad she didn't have to.

From his high vantage point, the floppy hat Michonne had on was blocking Rick's view of his son. He could only see the boy's chubby caramel colored legs dangling down from the scarf Michonne used to strap him to her back. While the view of his son was blocked, the view down Michonne's loose fitting shirt was not. She had been a rather comical looking pregnant woman, but motherhood flattered her. Her breasts were fuller and she had taken to going without a bra for simple convience since she was nursing so often. Rick put his fingers to his lips and whistled down a catcall at her. The sudden noise startled one of Rowan's dogs and the giant white beast let out a fearsome howl of shock, making everyone around the animal jump just about out of their skin.

Seeing that there was no threat and the dog had only been barking at Rick, those that had been startled by the sudden racket took their hands back off their weapons and returned to whatever tasks they had been working on before the sudden interuption. It did not escape Rick's attention that Rowan had gone for her slingshot instead of taking off running like a bat out of hell as the woman was prone to do anytime she got startled. He smiled, thinking maybe some of Michonne's fighting lessons had finally rubbed off on the strange and gentle woman.

"You know better than to be whistling at me," Michonne hollered up at him, a teasing smile on her face. She wiped her dirty hands off on the towel that was hanging from her belt for that purpose and walked closer to the wall. Tipping her hat back, she shaded her eyes with her hands and looked up.

"And what if I was?," Rick teased back.

"Gonna have to rough you up later then I 'spose," Michonne informed him, much to the amusement of the women around her. She giggled along with her friends for a moment before her face turned serious. "Got to talk to you about something," she added. Rick nodded, no longer interested in playing games. When Michonne said she needed to talk to him it wasn't like when Lori used to tell him the same thing and then lecture him about how he loaded the dishwasher. Michonne didn't waste words. If she said she needed to talk it always meant she had something important to say. Rick thought about hiking a leg over the wall and coming down to speak to her immediately, but then he remembered that would leave Carl and Moose alone outside the walls. And Rick hadn't even gotten around to having a talk with his son yet. Just another reason to feel like a crap father to the boy.

"If you want to come over and talk to Michonne, I can climb over and walk back with Carl," Enid offered. She was hovering behind the older woman, looking so hopeful that Rick knew he wasn't going to be able to tell her no. Enid must have sensed that he was about to give in to her suggestion because she was halfway up the wall before Rick even answered her back. She was a fast climber too. By the time he had both his legs over, feet resting on the support beam on the opposite side, Carl and Enid were already disappearing into the woods together.

TWD

The dinner at Deanna's house was a far different experience from the party she had for Rick's group back when they first arrived at Alexandria. The tension in the air was gone. Large dogs weaved in and out of the small groups of people, trying to steal choice tidbits of food until they were chased back outside to lie down on the front porch. Instead of acting as the hostess, Deanna sat on the floor and played with the babies. People tromped in and out of the house, heading to the firepit in the backyard where Rowan's father was grilling up chunks of venison on long wooden skewers.

"We've been invited out to the bonfire after dinner," Reg announced. He sat down and handed Deanna a glass of wine and a plate of food he had picked out for her. Deanna smiled at him and took a grateful sip from the cold glass. Olivia and Eugene had started making homemade apple wine and hard cider some time last fall and while Deanna didn't like to admit it, she had developed quite a taste for the stuff. It wasn't the high brow dry chardonnay she used to prefer, but any wine was better than no wine.

"I'm already tired," Deanna said. She wasn't sure what sort of antics went on out near Rowan's trailer and she honestly wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"There's going to be a play," Reg added, sensing his wife's reluctance. Deanna had always enjoyed going to the theatre and as he knew she would, she immediately looked ten times more interested once he mentioned a play. "Aaron said they're doing some version of the Odyssey." Deanna took another sip of her wine and adjusted her plate so Judith could climb up into her lap. "I'll bring our camping chairs," Reg added, trying his best not to oversell. He knew Deanna wouldn't mind if he went without her, but he would have more fun if she came along.

"Alright," Deanna agreed with a laugh, "I'll go." Her husband was at his most adorable When he got really exctied about something he reminded her so much of the spectacled nerdy architecture student that she had fallen in love with all those years ago. She thought the idea of going to a play sounded fun, but even if it sounded horrible she knew there was no way she was going to be able to tell him no when he was looking at her like that.

Deanna leaned back, letting Michonne lift Judith from her lap. The woman already had her son on her hip and she sat down on the couch with both children, nursing her son as she rubbed Judith's back. Within minutes both children were fast asleep.

"You going to be able to go?," Deanna asked the woman, nodding to the two sleeping children in her lap. Michonne nodded. Rowan had already told Michonne that she had her father drag several playpens out and set them up inside her teepee. Carl was playing a part in the play Aaron was putting on and Rowan knew Michonne would be sad if she had to miss it to stay home with her baby. After the play Michonne and Rick were planning to bank a little fire and sleep over in the teepee themselves. After so many long months cooped up inside Alexandria, a night away from their home sounded like a full on adventure even if they weren't actually leaving the walls. Michonne was looking forward to it so much that she actually felt like the lamest person alive. Not that being lame and having a boring life was a bad thing. Both Michonne and Rick agreed that they had enough adventure and excitement to last them both about a thousand lifetimes before they settled down in Alexandria. Boring was good because boring meant safe.

Daryl came in with two plates of food in his hands, wiggling down into the sofa. He traded Michonne, handing her one plate and taking one of the sleeping children from her lap. He made sure to grab Judith since the other baby was attached to Michonne's breast, still suckling even in his sleep.

"You going to be in the play?," Michonne teased. Daryl grinned through the mouthful of food he had shoveled into his mouth, little crumbs falling from his lips and landing the the nest of Judith's windblown curls. That fact that Rowan was always trying to get him involved in her theatrics wasn't exactly the best kept secret in town. If they were reading aloud around the fireplace Daryl didn't mind taking a turn, but even that pushed him out of his comfort zone.

"Already seen most'a it," Daryl told her. He had heard Rowan practicing her lines when she was up to her chin in a steamy bubble bath, her hips nestled between his thighs and her head leaning back to rest on his chest. Her voice was low and musical, the poems she was trying to remember broken up by the soft moans of pleasure she made as he kneaded his fingers into the soft skin of her neck and shoulders. Over at Aaron's house Daryl had seen Eric trying to teach Enid and Aaron a dance he had made up the steps to. Daryl knew it would look better when they performed it during the play later but when he had seen them they had still been tripping over each other's feet.

"You know it's not too late," Rowan reminded him as she reached down to snag a tiny cube of venison from Daryl's plate, having overheard Michonne's playful teasing. Rowan licked at the tips of her fingers before she leaned down to rub at Daryl's shoulders. "We could add the part about the cyclops back in," Rowan suggested, her voice flirty as she started pressing her thumbs in gently on a part of Daryl's back that felt like it had a small knot in it, "Cyclops doesn't even have any lines." Daryl just smiled and leaned back into her hands, holding up a skewer with another chunk of meat on it so Rowan could have another bite to eat without taking her hands off his shoulders.

Rowan swallowed her food and leaned down to kiss him, her long hair acting as a curtain to shield them from the eyes of everyone around them. Daryl held her in place for a moment with his hand resting gently on the back of her neck as he whispered that he would pretend to be anyone she liked. Later. When they were alone in their room together. He must have whispered a little louder than he thought since immediately after he spoke Daryl heard Michonne and Deanna start laughing. Rowan ignored them and kissed him again, letting the tip of her tounge slid briefly between his parted lips. This was her way of letting him know that not only was she more than happy with his suggestion for later, but that she had hopefully gotten over her fear and worry about the tarot card that had fallen from her dresser earlier. It wasn't that Daryl didn't believe in fortune telling. He had seen enough crazy things by now that he was willing to openly admit he believed. But he also held the opinion that bad things were going to happen sometimes that couldn't be prevented. Time was precious and he didn't want to waste what little he and Rowan were gifted stressing about terrible things that might never even happen.

After their kiss Rowan perched on the back of the couch and resumed massaging his shoulders. Rick gave Rowan a squeeze as he walked by her. He settled down on the floor near Michonne's feet with a plate of food and a giant plastic travel mug of iced tea for Michonne. Between slurps she and Rowan started up a quiet discusion about making more mother's tea and finding time to pickle some of the vegetables to preserve them for winter. Rick struck up a separate conversation with Daryl about a run he was planning for the next day.

Deanna listened in on both conversations, noting the conspiratorial glances that passed between the two women more than once. The girls may have been talking about the ingredients for tea but Deanna could tell there was something more on their minds. Whatever the two women were planning, Deanna guessed she wouldn't be informed about it until after it happened. Rowan was always of a mind that it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission and her unruly attitude had rubbed off on most of the members of her close knit group of friends and family. Deanna wasn't overly concerned. She trusted Rowan and knew that while the woman had tendency to do odd things like let all her goats loose in town to eat the grass instead of mowing it, she would never do anything that would get anyone hurt. Deanna's interest had only been peaked since whatever the women were planning was clearly being kept a secret from their significant others, something that was unusual for both couples.


	29. Chapter 29

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 29

The fire in the pit was burning low but had been banked well to keep it from dwindling out as the night went on. More people than Daryl had expected to show up had come out to watch the play. He figured either Rowan and Aaron were planning a much more professional production than their usual horsing around or the residents of Alexandria were more starved for entertainment than Daryl would have guessed. He was starting to feel a little worried for his wife, wondering if she had planned on having this many people show up to hear her act out a few bits of story in front of a firepit.

Deanna and Reg had set up camping chairs towards the back. Other people had also brought chairs or pillow to sit on. Carol and Tobin were spreading a blanket out over the well trampled grass. Maggie and Glenn were doing the same, while Rick and Michonne simply sat down cross legged in the grass with Michonne's large dog stretching out nearby.

Since Rowan and her father were both part of the play, Daryl sat with Nokake and some of the other wolves, having been unofficially taken in as part of their group because of his relationship with Rowan. Tank had tried unsuccsessfully to remain near Rowan while she was getting ready, but after she shooed him out from behind her trailer for the third time he hunkered down near Daryl with a dejected look on his face. Daryl spotted Olivia glancing around for someone to sit with since Eugene had been convinced to play some small roll in the play. He waved the woman over and was rewarded with a grateful smile. She sat down between Daryl and Tank, laughing when the large dog whined and crowded in close to her looking for sympathy.

Lily disappeared inside the teepee and not returned. Daryl guessed the dog had taken up watch over the sleeping children inside. Having her puppies had activated a strong mothering instinct inside the large dog and since then Lily had made it her personal responsiblity to keep watch over all the town's youngest and most vulnerable residents. She always came home to Rowan's house to sleep at night but it was not unusual for her to disappear for part or sometimes even most of the day. Later Michonne or one of the other mothers would tell Rowan that Lily had come to visit them.

Day was giving way to night and the sun was lighting firey streaks across the sky as it sunk lower into the horizon. Anticipation was building and the loud conversations that had been taking place around the outskirts of the firepit were fading as the light faded from the sky. A few people lit small citronella candles they brought with them or took a few squirts from one of the bottles of homemade mosquito repellent that were being passed around the crowd. A few other bottles were being passed around, more discreetly. Daryl rubbed a bit of the lemon scented liquid over his exposed skin, following it with a few deep swallows of the bottle that was passed to him next. He noticed Olivia passed on the liquor, leaning over Tank to hand the mason jar to Rick and Michonne. Daryl found himself wondering if she was just passing on it because she didn't care for the taste of moonshine or if they might be welcoming another new member to their extended family before the year was over.

Daryl had seen Eric and Aaron setting up and lighting lanterns so he guessed the group was waiting for the sky to darken before they started the play. Morgan darted through the crowd, causing a few people to holler at the large white dog as he trampled on or near their things with his muddy paws. Since Rowan's father was no where to be found he weasled in and took up a spot near Tank. Daryl shook his head at the dog's dirt covered muzzle, hoping that he hadn't been digging around in the gardens again. Of all the dogs in town, the only one that had a penchant for garden destruction was Morgan. He ate fruit from the berry bushes, trampled tomato plants and had a special passion for digging up anything that Rowan's father planted for himself.

The large white dog settled down just in time. Rowan and Aaron came out from behind the trailer, dressed in colorful costumes. Several people clapped while others hushed up the ones who were still talking amongst themselves. Daryl tried to remember the name of the character Rowan was playing but nothing was coming to mind other than a few lines of the poem she had been reciting in the bathtub as his hands stroked down the lengths of her freckled arms.

 _In the pathway of the sun,_

 _In the footsteps of the breeze,_

 _Where the world and sky are one,_

 _He shall ride the silver seas_

 _He shall cut the glittering wave..._

After those few words Rowan had arched her back, the full tops of her breasts floating up and out of the lingering layer of soap bubbles. Daryl couldn't remember anything she said after that. He knew Aaron was playing the lead character. Rowan was playing his wife and Carl was playing their son. Enid was playing some sort of witch and Rowan's father was acting as the narrator. Daryl had seen a few costumes being put together but he hadn't seen the final result. Rowan was wearing a sort of medival looking dress. With her long hair and now fuller bust the costume flattered her and made her appear as though she was a real princess in a story, ready to be locked away in a tower to wait for her would be rescuer. Daryl found Aaron's look far more comical. The man had a bare chest under a vest that Daryl was fairly certain had been borrowed without permission from his personal wardrobe. Michonne had lent her sword to be used as a prop and Aaron was wearing it tied to his waist with a colorful scarf like he was some sort of deranged pirate ninja.

With all eyes on Rowan and Aaron, no one noticed that Rowan's father had crept around near the back of the crowd. When the man banged on the drum in his hands, several people jumped or gasped in surprise. Daryl noticed the man had positioned himself directly behind the blanket Carol and her boyfriend were sitting on and he wondered if that was intentional. Rowan's father was good controlling his facial expressions, but Daryl knew him better than most. He could see the man was looking rather pleased with himself for scaring Tobin and making the usually calm and composed man holler out in surprise. Carol was staring daggers up at Rowan's father and he was sure to smile down at her before he began with his part of the story.

Rowan's father had an accent that was appealing to the ear and a good strong voice for story telling. He banged on the drum one more time, giving Carol another wicked smile. Then he began.

"When Odysseus, the King of Ithaca, left to fight in the Trojan war his son was still a babe in his mother's arms."

As he spoke to tell the story, Rowan and Aaron acted out the physical representation of the words. Rowan rocked a bundle of fabric as if she held a pretend baby in her arms. It was really nothing more than a bunched up scarf but the tender way she looked down at it made it easy to give in to the magic of the story and believe she was really holding her infant son in her arms. Aaron wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his naked chest before he kissed her. Daryl about choked on the second swig of liquor he was taking. No one had told him anything about any kissing and he had to remind himself that Aaron was very gay and probably didn't like kissing Rowan any more than Daryl liked watching him kiss her. This wasn't any more real than the bundled up scarf baby in Rowan's arms.

"They're really good, aren't they?," Olivia whispered, trying not to giggle at Daryl's reaction to the kiss. Daryl nodded and took another long pull on the brown bottle in his hands before he passed it on to the person on his right. Aaron kissed the fake baby bundle in Rowan's arms before he charged off very dramatically with his hand on Michonne's sword. After he was out of view, Rowan recited the poem she had been practicing earlier in the bathtub. Daryl had remembered the beginning right, but there were a few lines that had come after.

 _"...he shall cut the glittering wave;_

 _I shall sit at home and rock;_

 _Rise, to heed a neighbor's knock;_

 _Brew my tea, and snip my thread;_

 _Bleach the linen for my bed._

 _They will call him brave."_

The feeling of a woman waiting at home, unsure if her husband was going to come back alive struck a cord with many of the people that were sitting in the audience. Daryl even saw a few of them wipe at their eyes. After the poem, Rowan's father hit the drum again.

"The war raged on for ten long years before the Greeks truimphed over the Trojans. Most of the Greeks that survived returned home to their families. But Odyesseus did not. His journey home took him another ten years."

As he spoke, Rowan acted out the part of Penelope. She put her hand to shield her eyes as she looked out over imaginary cliffs for her wayward husband. And when the part about another ten years was mentioned she flicked the long scarf out and twirled, letting it fan out around her until her imaginary baby was gone and Carl was standing next to her in it's place. Rick and Michonne clapped their hands in excitement. Pretending Carl was twenty was a bit of a stretch, but someone had colored in a fake beard and mustache on his face to make him look a little older. Rowan took his arm and they faced the small crowd together.

"When Odysseus failed to return home after the war, many unmarried men suspected he had died in the war or on the journey home. They moved into his home with the intention of courting Penelope, who's beauty and weath had not diminished during her husband's long absence. One even plotted to kill her son Telemachus to make it easier to force her into a martial union."

Eric, Spencer and Eugene had been elected to play Penelope's suitors. They bumbled out, kneeling down in front of Rowan, offering her flowers and trying to get her attention as she stood unmoved by their affections. Eric was playing the most evil of the bunch. He stood behind Carl, pulling a knife out and putting his finger to his lips to signal people in the crowd to keep quiet as he plotted to kill the boy. Most of the people watching hissed and booed at him, now fully invested in the story that was being acted out for them.

"Afraid for the life of her son if she openly refused her suitors, Penelope devised a plan to stall them in hopes that her husband would return. She claimed she would choose a suitor once she was finished weaving her husband's funeral shroud. Every day she would weave the shroud. And every night in the cover of dark she would pull her day's work loose from the loom."

Spencer knelt down, making his back into a chair for Rowan to sit upon. Eric held up the same scarf that Rowan had used as her pretend baby. Now it was her loom that she pretended to weave. When her father got to the part about her pulling the threads loose she yanked angrily at the scarf and then buried her face in it, pretending to cry over her missing husband. Like most people watching, Daryl was finding himself more caught up in the story than he meant to be. A few gulps of strong liquor swirled in his gut and started him thinking about Rowan and what might happen to her if her was the husband that never came back from a run one day. It made him sick to think about leaving his unborn child without a father.

"Penelope could only keep up her ruse for so long before her deception was discovered. The suitors demanded that she stop with her games and choose a husband from among them. Afraid for his own safety and that of his mother, Telemachus left his home determined to find his father."

The three man playing the suitors pantomined their anger. Eric even grabbed Rowan roughly by the arms and shook her a little. She broke away from him and hugged Carl tightly in her arms. He hugged her back before he charged off in the same direction Aaron had gone. Eric and Rowan grabbed hands and gave a little bow, mainly to remind people that they were only acting their parts. Then the four of them cleared out of the way to make room for the next scene that was going to take place.

"Odysseus had no desire to fight. During the ten long years the war waged on his wife and son consumed his dreams along with his waking thoughts. As soon as the fight was won he climbed aboard his boat and set sail for Ithaca. But fate would not allow him to reach his home so easily. A storm washed him up on the island of the witch Calypso. Laying eyes upon the only man she had ever seen, Calypso fell deeply in love with him. Using her magic, she kept Odyesseus imprisoned on her island for seven long years. During that time he was saved from the ravages of time but still thought of nothing but returning home to his family."

Daryl had been watching Rowan's father as he spoke but when a murmur rippled through the crowd he turned to see what had caught everyone's attention. Enid twirled out to do the dance she had been practicing with Aaron. The collective gasp had been caused by the extremely skimpy costume the girl had on. She looked more like a belly dancer than any witch Daryl had ever seen. The top she had on wasn't much more than a few scarves that had been strategically knotted to cover her breasts and the skirt was slit in a way that bared her legs from her ankles all the way to her hips when she spun or lifted her knee up. The dance steps that had seemed silly and comical to Daryl when he saw them being practiced in Aaron's living room took on a different mood in the flickering light of the fire. They looked sexy together and were very convincing in their lust for each other.

"Persuaded by the messenger god Hermes and by her own conscience, Calypso eventually released Odysseus. She provided him with a boat and the supplies he would need for the long journey home."

Enid took a bundled up scarf, which was meant to represent the supplies, and handed it to Aaron. Then Aaron took her into his arms and kissed her. Daryl snorted out a quiet laugh, thinking that it seemed the man wouldn't be happy until he made out with every woman in the place. Aaron pantomined, moving his arms like he was rowing away in a boat. Eric and Spencer waved a long scarf up and down in front of him to look like the waves of the ocean. Enid got up on her tiptoes with her hand held up to shade her eyes from the pretend sun. Once her make believe lover was gone from sight she lowered her head into her hands as if she was crying. Moving quickly and with good dramatic timing, she yanked a hidden knife from the waist of her flowy skirt. She raked the knife across her wrists, making quite a few people gasp in shock and suprise. For a moment even Daryl was wondering if Calypso's suicide was a planned part of the play. But after Enid dropped the knife she let two long ribbons of red cloth unravel down from where she had hidden them in her palms before she sunk to the ground.

Most people in Alexandria knew someone that had killed themselves since the beginning of the turn. Most had given up on life after the loss of a loved one. The scene hit home hard and there were sniffles and wet eyes that came along with the muffled applause that sounded when Enid stood up and took a bow after her scene was finished.

"On his way home once again, Odysseus's ship is driven off course by a storm. He and his men wash up on an unknown island where they are captured by a horrible beast with only one eye. The cyclops meant to eat them but Odysseus and his men escaped by blinding the beast with a wooden stake."

This part of the play proved to be much more comical, which was a welcome relief from the previous scene. Eugene played the cyclops and howled so loudly when Aaron pretened to poke his eye out that Morgan and Tank leaped up onto their feet and started howling along with him. Daryl and Olivia hushed the dogs up and Daryl pulled Tank over closer to him to keep the dog from running off to hunt down Rowan and ruin her play in the process.

"Odysseus had bested the beast but his vanity was his own undoing. As he ran from the cave of the cyclops he called out his real name to the beast, wanting the creature to know who had beaten him. The cylcops was son to the sea god Poseidon. In anger over his blinded son, Poseidon cursed Odysseus to wander the sea forever and never find his way home to Ithaca."

Aaron did the rowing act again. This time he went back and forth in front of the fire pit until he finally collapsed like he had given up. Eric appeared again in a slightly different costume that Daryl guessed was meant to signify that he was playing a different character. He handed Aaron a bag as Rowan's father narrated what was happening.

"Aeolus, the ruler of all the winds, took pity on Odysseus and gave him a bag containing all the winds except the west wind. This gift should have ensured a safe and fast journey home. But the greedy sailors on Odysseus's ship believed the bag contained gold. Just as the island of Ithaca came into sight, they opened the bag and all the winds flew out, blowing the ship back the way it came."

Enid came back out. She was wearing the same skimpy costume but she had a scarf draped over her head like a shroud. In the flickering light of the fire this gave her an unsettling eerie appearance. Spencer and Eugene, who were now playing the parts of Odysseus's sailors, came up and pretened as if they were taking food from her hands. After eating it they fell down on the ground and started rolling around like they had been poisoned.

"The new storm blew Odysseus's ship onto the island of the witch goddess Circe. She fed the sailors food laced with magic that turned them all into pigs. At Odysseus's request she agreed to change his men back, but only if he would agree to let her take him to bed."

Between the copious oinking from the two men that had supposedly been turned into barnyard animals and Aaron tripping over part of Enid's skirts and nearly dropping her on her ass, people were laughing hard in their enjoyment of the play. Stomach clutching laughter may not have been the intention of the scene but Aaron ran with it, scooping Enid up and tossing the girl over his shoulder. She pounded on his back for him to let her down and he responded by giving her a good solid whack on the behind, bringing on even more laughter from the people watching.

"Odysseus kept good on his word." Rowan's father spoke loudly in an attempt to get the derailed play back on track. People hushed themselves, not wanting to miss the next part of the story. "He stayed on Circe's island with her for a year. After this time she provided him with the directions he needed to get back home to his wife. He and his men avoided the island of the Sirens, plugging their ears with wax to avoid hearing the magical songs that would have drawn them in to crash on the rocks. Odysseus made it to the island of the Phaeacians, the only sailors with enough skill to get him home alive. In the cover of night, they delivered him to a hidden harbor in Ithaca."

Carl charged back out into view. He and Aaron shared a hug, making people smile and clap. A family reunion was always a welcome sight, even is it was only a pretend one.

"There Odysseus was reunited with his son Telemachus. Together they decided that the suitors must be killed. But given his own indiscretions, Odysseus was hesitant to believe that his wife has been as faithful as their son believed her to be. Odysseus disguised himself so that he might gain the truth from his wife before she learned of his return."

Aaron tossed the scarf over his head and bent down, shuffling as he walked. It gave him the appearance of being a tired old man. Rowan appeared again, rushing ahead to hug Carl before she knelt and offered some comfort to what Penelope believed was nothing more than a harmless old beggar.

"Odysseus had returned home in the knick of time. Urged on by her fear that harm would come to her only son, Penelope had agreed to a competiton between the suitors. The victor would win her hand in marriage. She challenged the men to string her husband's bow and shoot an arrow through a dozen axe heads in the hopes that there was not a man among them that could measure up to her wayword husband in terms of physical strength."

Spencer, Eric and Eugene each took a turn on the longbow they were using as a prop. Each of them pretended not to be able to pull the string back as Rowan clutched Carl's arm and looked on in horror. Aaron hobbled up, reaching for the bow. Eric laughed and kicked at him with his foot, knocking the man into the dirt. Aaron clambed back onto his feet, holding his hand out for the bow. One of the suitors handed it to him while the rest of them laughed. Aaron strung the bow and fired an arrow into a nearby tree. The shot was a good one and added to the illusion that the story was real. Daryl had given him a few lessons but he knew the man must have practiced since then to be able to make such a good shot in the dimming light.

Once he hit his target, Aaron tossed off the scarf and stood up straight. Carl ran to his side and they swung a few wooden sticks around. When they were done all the suitors were lying pretend dead on the ground. Rowan hung back, approaching Aaron slowly. When he reached for her she took a step back, as if she was scared of him. It seemed to take her forever to melt into his arms, and when she finally did people clapped like crazy.

Carl took a deep breath. He only had one section of lines in the entire play and he had written them down since he wasn't as good at memorizing poetry and stories as Rowan and her father were. The boy cleared his throat as he quickly unfolded the small piece of paper he had in his pocket, grateful when Rowan's father pounded on the drum in his hands to shut everyone up for just a moment longer so they could hear the end of the play. The writing was harder to read in the flickering firelight but Carl only needed the words as a reminder since he had made a good attempt at memorizing them.

 _Now from his breast into his eyes the ache_

 _of longing mounted, and he wept at last,_

 _his dear wife, clear and faithful, in his arms,_

 _longed for_

 _as the sunwarmed earth is longed for by a swimmer_

 _spent in rough water where his ship went down_

 _under Posiedon's blows, gale winds and tons of sea..._

 _she too rejoiced, her gaze upon her husband,_

 _her white arms round him pressed as though forever._

 ****I used the story of Cassandra as the story within a story in Under Your Spell and I wanted to do the same with this. How the Odyssey parallels The Wolf You Feed will become more clear as the story goes on. So with that, this chapter obviously contained some of the plot and even a few lines from the Odyssey. The story varies from the different versions of the books and legends and from movie to movie so I used a little creative license with it and left out a lot just so this chapter wouldn't drag on forever. The credit was given within the chapter so I don't think I need to give any more, clearly I did not come up with the story of the odyssey myself nor do I take credit for it. There was also a poem titled Penelope by Dorothy Parker included. Thanks to anyone that has taken the time to leave a review. I am still working on this story but I also have an AU (no zombies) story called Big Yellow Taxi that features Rowan and Daryl as the main pairing if anyone would like to read it. It's not completed but I am posting updates on it as well as my other WIP's.****


	30. Chapter 30

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 30

 **** I know I had a few reviewers asking for more of Carl and Enid. There is some sexual content between those two characters in this chapter so if that's not your thing feel free to skip to the end or wait for the next update. ****

"We have the house to ourselves tonight," Carl said, pulling a bottle of wine out that he had managed to keep hidden behind his back as he and Enid slipped away from the group that had gathered around the fire after the play was finished. "It's only half full," he added, tilting the darkly tinted bottle to the side to try and gauge how much liquid was still left sloshing around inside.

Enid reached for the bottle. The cork had already been removed, then stuffed halfway back in by whoever the wine belonged to. She gripped the swollen cork between her fingers and pulled it back out, holding it under her nose so she could breathe in the smell of it. Wine was like coffee, it always smelled a hundred times better than it tasted. After smelling the cork Enid tossed it away into a nearby bush and lifted the bottle to her lips.

Enid and Carl were not expressly forbidden to drink. At Rowan's house they were often given a glass of wine or beer along with everyone else if there was wine or beer to be had. But this bottle of wine was stolen, which made drinking it feel more exciting and even a little dangerous. There wasn't much mischief to be had in Alexandria. There was no school to be skipped and neither Carl nor Enid would have thought of trying to get out of the shared work that everyone in town took part in. So the two rebelious young people took advantage of the few opportunites they had for a thrill, and on this rapidly cooling late summer evening that meant drinking a few glasses of wine that did not belong to them.

Carl watched Enid tip the bottle up. She yanked the bottom of the bottle up too quickly and was hit with a large gush of fluid that she struggled to swallow. A tiny dribble of the dark red liquid ran from the corner of her mouth and streaked down to the line of her jaw. Carl reached over, wiping the wine away with the tip of his finger and then putting that same finger into his mouth. He sucked the wine off his skin. It was sweeter and less sour tasting than he expected. Enid took another sip from the bottle, being more careful this time to keep from spilling the wine down the front of her.

After the play, Enid had not taken time to change from her costume. She had simply borrowed one of Rowan's large scarves and wrapped it around her shoulders to keep herself from getting too cold. As she lifted the bottle the shall slipped from her shoulders, exposing her collar bone and the bare flesh of her shoulder. The costume was nothing more than a thin cotton bedsheet and some tulle that Enid and Rowan had dip died and then cut or ripped up into peices. Carl wasn't sure it they had made it specifically as a costume for the play or if Rowan had made it just to wear on a normal day. He had seen the woman in outfits that were equally as strange looking as the one Enid had on, though they hadn't seemed quite so provocative when Rowan was wearing them. Carl wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because Rowan had a slimmer body with less curves or maybe the dress just looked sexier on Enid because he found her attractive while Rowan was more like an aunt or a second mother to him. Either way his eyes were locked on the exposed flesh of the girl standing next to him.

Since the dress was backless, Enid wasn't wearing a bra. The night was cool and her hard nipples were visible through the thin fabric of the costume. The long airy skirt was slit up the side to make it easier for her to dance. The way she was standing caused the slit to fall open, revealing her long leg from the ankle almost all the way up to the full curve of her hip.

"It's not too bad," Enid remarked, glancing at the label on the wine bottle before passing it back to Carl. He tipped the bottle back, taking a few deep swallows. He enjoyed the effects of alcohol more than the taste and found drinking it as quickly as possible best served his purposes. As he lowered the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smearing the fake beard that he forgot Rowan had painted on his face, Carl felt a chill shiver up his spine. Despite not hearing a single suspcious noise Carl suddenly had the very distinct feeling that he and Enid were being watched. And he while he didn't like the idea of anyone watching Enid at anytime or for any reason, he liked the idea of her being looked at even less with most of her body exposed.

The same feeling had come over Carl earlier that day in the woods. Moose had started growling, his teeth bared and the hair on his back standing on end. But when Carl went to investigate all he found was a dead walker that someone had already bashed in the head of. He didn't want to overreact again. So instead of verbalizing his sudden fears, Carl wrapped an arm around Enid's waist and started coralling the girl back towards their house.

By the time they got home, the half full wine bottle was empty. Enid was already starting to get giggly, which was always a welcome change from her usual quiet and serious demeanor. Thoughts of locking up all the doors and windows on the lower floor floated though Carl's mind, made fresh by the unsettling sensations he had out in the street. But once the front door had slapped shut behind them, Enid reached behind her neck and untied the knotted lengths of fabric that were holding the front of her costume up. A little wiggle of her hips and the entire ensemble was pooled up on the floor near her feet, leaving her only in a wispy pair of underpants and the tennis shoes she had stuffed her bare feet into for the walk back into town from Rowan's trailer.

All the grand ideas Carl had of securing the house flew from his mind as he filled his hands up with Enid's hair. She smelled like smoke from the bonfire and tasted like the wine they had just finished drinking. With her in his arms, Carl walked backwards away from the door. He was heading for the bedroom he and Enid shared on the upper level of the house. They only made it as far as the stairs before Enid's hands were down his pants and both their faces were covered in the paint from Carl's fake beard.

Their kisses quickly became rougher and more urgent with need. Carl shoved his boxers down with his pants, letting them tangle up around his ankles since he was in too much of a hurry to kick off his socks and shoes. The carpet of the stair above the one he was perched on rubbed roughly into his lower back, but he ignored the slight discomfort. Enid shoved her panties down, kicking only one shoe off in the process. This left her clothed in one dirty tennis shoe with her lacy underpants dangling from her ankle. She climbed into Carl's lap, bumping her knees on the steps in her hurry to have her urges satisfied. A huffing grunt of pain gave way to a low moan of pleasure as she forgot her probably bruised now knee and sunk down onto the part of Carl that had been hard and ready for her since he had seen her dancing with Aaron in front of the bonfire with her dress flaring out around her.

Their lovemaking was as it always was, intense and over too quickly since neither of them had the patience or self control to take their time and draw out the act to make the pleasure last longer. The empty house filled up with their moans and squeaks, the sounds not having to be muffled with a hand or a pillow since for once they weren't worried about being heard by Carl's father or stepmother. Carl finished first, coming undone by the sight and feel of her breasts pressing into his face. He took a moment to compose himself, taking a few deep gasps of air and trying to calm his heaving chest.

Their bodies shifted awkwardly in the small space as Carl maneuvered himself so Enid was the one sitting on the steps and he was hovering over her. Kissing down her body he pushed her legs open and slipped a finger inside her. The slick feeling of his fluids mixed with hers might have been enough to bring his manhood back to life if he hadn't already had more alcohol to drink than he was used to. Instead he used his mouth and fingers on her until she was making the little high pitched noises that he knew meant she was now as happy as he was.

Carl placed a gentle kiss on the inside of Enid's thigh before he relaxed onto her, resting his head against her stomach. The stairs were not the most comfortable place to unwind but he was too exhausted to move at the present moment. The boy was torn between suggesting a long hot shower, the kind that could only be had when his father wasn't around to pound on the door and tell them to stop wasting water, and just sliding into bed next to Enid's soft warmth and worrying about cleaning up his dirty body and face in the morning.

Enid's hand stroked over his head, her fingers twining into his hair. Then suddenly her entire body went tense. Her leg came up, smashing into the underside of Carl's chin and making him taste the hot tang of blood as he bit down on his own tounge. Before he even had the chance to ask her what was wrong, Enid let out a bloodcurldling scream.

"What's wrong," Carl gasped, turning towards the girl, "Did I hurt you?" His fear of hurting her had gradually eased over time, but it was still a constant worry in the back of his mind. Enid seemed so soft and fragile. He was always a little nervous that he would hurt the insides of her if he rammed into her too hard or pushed in too far. But as he turned he saw that Enid's gaze was fixed not upon him but on the open front door behind him.

"No," she gasped, covering her naked breasts with her hands, "Someone was standing there in the doorway watching us." Enid pointed, taking a step backwards up the stairs, her eyes already scanning for anything that could be used as a weapon.

"Who was it?," Carl asked. He raked his pants and boxers back up, fastening the button but leaving the zipper undone in his haste. Most of the guns were upstairs and Michonne's sword was still out by the bonfire somewhere. Carl grabbed the folded up umbrella stroller that was leaning against the wall by the front door and held it up in the air like a bat.

"I don't know," Enid gasped, "they were standing in the shadows like a total fucking creep." Whoever it was had gotten one hell of a show. It made her sick to think someone had been watching her in her most intimate private moments, but her fear and disgust were rapidly giving way to anger. "I'm going upstairs to get my gun," she announced. Carl stopped to nod at her before he took another step closer to the open door.

Holding the stroller up, Carl took a deep breath and then charged out onto the front porch, swinging it like a golf club. But the porch was empty. Enid appeared in the doorway a few moments later, clothed in a bathrobe she hadn't taken the time to tie shut and holding a loaded handgun. There was nothing staring back at them except a few muddy bootprints on the front porch. These at least confirmed that Enid had not seen only a shadow or a trick of the eye in the dark. Someone had opened the front door. Someone had been watching them. And Carl gussed that someone was most likely still watching them. The sick nasty pervert was probably hiding somewhere nearby.

"You fucking pervert," Carl hollered, "when I catch you I am going to beat yer ass into the ground." Enid would have giggled again if she wasn't still so freaked out. Carl had been spending so much time with Daryl he was starting to sound like him.

"What's going on here?"

The voice came from further down the street and was filled with concern. A few seconds later Deanna and her husband were hurrying down the walkway towards the house.

"You see anyone run away from here?," Carl asked. "Just a minute or two ago," he added. Both Deanna and her husband shook their heads. "He musta headed around the back of the house then," Carl declared as he prepared to charge after the mystery stalker. Reg put a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder to keep him from taking off.

"What's going on here?," Reg asked again.

"Me and Carl were inside on the steps...," Enid explained as she yanked her robe shut, tying the belt in a knot. "We were kissing," she said, deciding that Deanna and Reg didn't really need or want to know the details of what she and Carl were actually doing, "... and when I looked up some creep was standing in the open doorway just staring at us."

"Did you recognize him?," Reg asked. Enid shook her head.

"It was dark and the light was shining in from the streetlight behind him," she explained, "all I saw was a person standing there, I couldn't see his face. I think he might have even been wearing something over his face, like a ski mask or something. I dont' know, it was just too creepy." Enid shivered, grateful that Carl slung his arm around her without her having to ask.

Reg and Deanna exchanged worried glances. It was obvious from their half dressed and disheveled appearance that Carl and Enid had been doing a lot more than kissing on the steps inside their house. And if someone had been watching that, they were clearly dealing with a local pervert at the very least, or at the worst there was a possibly dangerous masked stranger running around inside the walls of Alexandria.

Reg climbed the steps and took a look at the muddy bootprints the unwelcome visitor had left behind. He hoped there was some simple explanation for what happened. Maybe someone came by not knowing anyone was home and then panicked once he or she got caught looking at something they shouldn't have been looking at. Reg doubted it, but he always liked to think the best of people.

"I think for tonight you two kids should get your things and come sleep at our house," Reg told the frightened young couple, "We can speak to your father in the morning and see what he wants to do about it... Or maybe Rowan's husband can take a look at the bootprints and figure out who they belong to." Reg wasn't sure if finding the owner of a few muddy prints was in Daryl's skill set, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. Reg knew the man was skilled at tracking animals and had even given Spencer a few lessons. Tracking a person couldn't be too much harder than tracking a deer.

Carl nodded at the suggestion, not really so eager anymore for him and Enid to spend the night alone in an empty house. Reg and Deanna waited near the bottom of the porch steps while the younger couple hurried back inside the house to gather their things. They reappeared a few minutes later, dressed in pajamas and armed to the teeth on top of their bedtime clothes. Enid had a long tshirt and a pair a plaid cotton pants on, with both a handgun and a knife strapped to her waist. Carl was dressed simliarly, with a gun holster slung over his shoulder and a hunting knife in his hands. Both their faces had been scrubbed clean of smeared makeup. Reg smiled, unsure now if he was taking two scared kids back to sleep at his house or if he had just suceeded in hiring his own personal bodyguards.


	31. Chapter 31

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 31

Rick stood next to Daryl, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and feeling next to useless as he watched the other man inspect Rick's freshly scrubbed porch. It was painfully obvious that whoever or whatever had scared Carl and Enid the night before had come back once the couple was gone and taken every precaution to erase all evidence of their existence. Daryl and Rick had already checked around the house. They found a few muddy boot scrapes. But the grass was already well trampled by Rick's large dog and the other residents of his home. There was no was to distinguish the intruders footprints from those of anyone else in town, not even for a tracker as skilled as Daryl.

"...least we know it's someone from town," Daryl mumbled. Rick nodded. He found it doubtful that a stranger would be careful enough to come back and wash their muddy bootprints off his porch. But Daryl had another good point. "Only someone we know would be worried that we would rec'nize their bootprints," Daryl added, lifting his hand to his mouth and nibbling at the side of his thumb as he pondered who he thought might have been Carl's peeping tom.

"Maybe Reg was right," Rick suggested, "maybe someone just came by to talk to one of us..."

"...and stayed to watch two kids gettin' it on," Daryl finished with a scowl on his face. He didn't care for the idea that someone in town had a wandering eye and in the back of his mind he was counting up in his mind all the times that he and Rowan had sex outdoors. Out by the lake. Near the firepit at her trailer. In the back gardens. Rowan's carefree nature had helped to bring him out of his shell, but Daryl was still a private man. It made him angry and a little sick that someone might have been watching him and his wife in their most intimate moments. And Carl was just a kid. That made whoever was spying a double nasty pervert as far as Daryl was concerned.

"There's nothin' we can do about it now," Rick concluded. Daryl grunted his displeasure but nodded his head to indicate that he agreed with the man. There wasn't much they could do to find the person. But he was going to start with closing his fucking curtains and regulating his and Rowan's sexual activites to their bedroom for the time being. Her entire body had gotten covered in mosquito bites the last time they were naked outside anyway.

"Still want to make the run today?," Rick asked. Daryl nodded again, this time with more enthusiasm. He had been feeling a little restless lately. Going out on a supply run felt like just what the doctor ordered.

The two men quicky gathered the supplies they needed from their homes. Neither were aware of the other's activites but both were surprised not to find their significant others anywhere in sight when they went to say goodbye. Once the men rounded the corner and headed up the road that would lead them out the front gate they saw why.

Rowan and Michonne were camped out on the trunk of the car the men were going to be taking out. Michonne was sitting on the edge of the trunk with her legs crossed. Rowan was leaning back, her body draped across the back windshield. Rick smiled, assuming that Michonne had come to see him off. She wasn't the most outwardly demonstrative woman when it came to showing him her feelings and for a moment he was touched by the fact that she was waiting by the car to wish him good luck on his run. But his feelings quickly changed when instead of approaching him to wrap her arms around his neck she and Rowan both got up and climbed inside the car with Rowan's large black dog between them.

"And just where in the hell do you think yer pregnant ass is going?," Daryl asked, leaning forward to yank Rowan's car door open. Rowan beamed a beautiful smile up at him, ignoring the coarseness of his words as was her habit.

"With you," Rowan told him, grasping Daryl by the shirt and pulling him down to press her lips against his. After a few soft kisses she released him and showed him the gun she had strapped to her hip. "I even have a gun," she announced cheerfully. She didn't think it was necessary to mention that she had taken all the bullets out of the gun and tossed them under the seat of the car.

Daryl sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to win this fight. And the truth was he wasn't sure he wanted to win. Logic told him that his pregnant wife ought to stay safe inside the walls of Alexandria but in his heart he felt they were always safer together. Rowan had proven that she was a worthy partner when she and Enid saved him and Carl from those crazy women. Pregnant or not he no longer considered her to be a fragile flower that he had to protect. She was a formidable force to be reckoned with. Even if the gun on her hip probably wasn't loaded.

"You load that gun back up and you kin come," Daryl agreed, laughing when Tank barked in response. The big dog was all healed up from his encounter with the tiger and he appeared even more ready than Rowan was to get out and have another adventure.

Rick sighed, knowing that since Daryl had agreed to let Rowan come, it was going to make telling Michonne not to come just that much harder. She was already glaring at him with her arms crossed under her ample breasts.

"I don't think both of us should be away from the baby at the same time," Rick said, feeling rather lame but still hoping that the thought of leaving the baby alone might be enough to get Michonne out of the car.

Michonne's approach was not Rowan's. She didn't kiss Rick or baby talk him. She wasn't even sure what his response to that sort of manipulation might be. And she didn't care.

"If you ever want to have sex again," she threatened, "you will get in this car and not say another word to me about it." Rick weighed his options, ignoring the fact that Daryl was laughing at him from inside the car as he lit up a cigarette. Even if he and Daryl ordered the girls out of the car, there was a chance the two of them would go off on their own. And that scared him more than taking them with him. So he did what Michonne asked. He got in the car and shut the door without another word, smiling when she leaned up from the backseat to wrap her arms around him and press a kiss to the side of his face.

"Rowan's dad and stepmom are watching Andy and Judith," she whispered, just to put his mind at ease. Michonne knew if they were out too long that Nokake would even nurse her baby for her. And while Rowan's father was a strange sort of man, unlike her previous son's father, Grey Wolf would die before he let anything happen to her children. Rick smiled as he fired up the car, thinking that things really had some full circle when the man that had once led a brutal attack against their town was now the man he trusted most to keep his son and daughter safe while he went on a supply run.

Eugene opened the gate for them. He had also made them a map of all the agricultural supply warehouses in the surrounding area. Rowan handed the map up to Daryl, his hand lingering on hers for longer than was necessary for them to pass the small folded piece of paper between them.

Rick turned the radio up and they rolled the windows down. The day was warm and sunny. In the old world it would have been the perfect day to call in sick to work and take off to go to the lake. Michonne let her hand hang out the window so she could feel the breeze as they drove. She hadn't realized how cooped up she had been feeling in Alexandria until she was outside the walls breathing the sweet air of freedom. Aside from walking the perimeter of the walls, she hadn't been outside of town since before she was pregnant. And since she had her baby she hadn't even done that. Getting a fresh view of the world felt exhilarating. She enjoyed living her new life but she didn't want to let herself forget how to survive.

They got lucky at the first supply store they stopped at. So lucky that they left the car hidden inside a garage and piled inside the cab of the truck they found loaded not only with at least six months worth of supplies but with a full tank of gas. Rowan had waited until Daryl wasn't looking and snagged a tube of toothpaste from the full box, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans. She could feel the sharp corner of the tube in her pocket, poking into the meat of her thigh.

Rick decided they would take a different route back. That way they could check a few more stops that Eugene had marked on the map for them. Daryl rode with Rowan in his lap. Michonne sat on a box between the seats of the truck, sharing the small space with Tank. Her hand rested in Rick's lap and she gave his thigh a gentle squeeze, smiling up at him. The truck had been a good find and their spirits were high.

Michonne noticed Rowan moving Daryl's hand around on her stomach and she took her hand from Rick's lap to reach over and try to feel the baby kick for herself. Rowan wasn't pregnant enough for the kicks to be strong yet. She was more at the stage where the baby moving felt more like little bubbles or flutters inside her. But Michonne still wanted to feel it. Rowan had felt Michonne's baby kick, resting her pale tattooed fingers against the dark skin of Michonne's swollen belly. She had hung a sewing needle on a bit of thread and dangled it over Michonne's stomach, insisting that the direction that the needle swung in would reveal the sex of the baby.

"Stop there," Daryl said, pointing to an abandonded gas station they were about to pass by. Rick pulled the truck to a stop, looking curiously at his friend. The gas station wasn't marked on their map, and it looked like it had been ransacked about ten times over. Daryl eased Rowan from his lap and hopped out, heading directly for a beat up vending machine.

While the men wrestled the vending machine, Michonne and Rowan took Tank inside the gas station with them to take a look around. Anything edible was long since gone. But Michonne found a display of magazines and comics that she started pulling from, sticking the comic books and crossword puzzles into her bag. Rowan spun a rack of sunglasses around, taking a few pairs she liked and tucking them away. She put a large silly looking pair of white framed glasses on her face and stuck her tounge out at Michonne, causing the woman to laugh at her.

Flipping the glasses up onto her head, Rowan peeked outside to see how the men were coming along. Rick had chained the vending machine to the truck and was attempting to flip it over. Tank was standing next to Daryl, barking out his encouragment. Rowan waved at them through the dirty window before joining Michonne at the magazine rack. Rowan liked to read, but there weren't any real books to be found. She grabbed a few coloring books, thinking she could take them back for some of the kids in town. But then a row of magazines caught her eye. They had strange pieces of cardboard covering them up and when Rowan pulled one out from behind the shield she gasped and dropped it on the floor. Snatching it back up she flipped the magazine open and stared at the pictures inside with her mouth hanging open.

"Michonne," Rowan hissed, nudging at the other women with the tip of her shoe to get her attention, "there's nothing but naked pictures of women inside this magazine." Michonne snorted out a laugh.

"It's a dirty magazine Rowan," she answered, "what did you expect?" Rowan didn't answer. Instead she started from the beginning and flipped through each page of the magazine, her big hazel eyes getting wider and wider as her cheeks got redder.

"What kinds of people read a magazine like this?," Rowan asked, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at the pages that had unfolded out from the center of the magazine. Not only were the women inside the magazine naked, they were also very strange looking. Their breasts appeared too large for their bodies and they were bent and twisted into all sorts of strange and uncomfortable looking positions. Rowan understood that people enjoyed looking at the naked human form. She had even posed nude once for an artist friend of hers. But the pictures in the magazine seemed different somehow. The women looked like fake plastic dolls.

"Men," Michonne answered, "men like to look at magazines like that. I suppose some women like them too." She guessed there were some women that did, but naked pictures of other women had never done anything for her. But all the men she had ever known had at least one hidden titty magazine somewhere in their bedrooms. If not that then they were looking at the same crap on the internet. Rowan turned the magazine around, holding up a picture of a very trashy looking blonde woman with breasts so large they looked realy to pop like a balloon with too much air in it.

"You think Daryl likes girls that look like this?," Rowan asked, looking back and forth from the girl in the magazine to her own much smaller breasts. She had never given the size of them much consideration before. In fact Rowan had always been glad to be small enough that she wasn't forced to wear a bra. At least before she got pregnant. But compared to the women in the magazine her chest seemed to be severely lacking in size. And now that Rowan thought about it, Daryl had been paying her breasts a lot more attention now that they were rounded and swollen from her pregnancy. It made her feel bad about her body for the first time in her life.

"Daryl loves you," Michonne said as she tried her very best not to start laughing. The mixture of concern and disgust on Rowan's face was really too much. She knew the woman had grown up in a unique environment but she had no idea Rowan had been sheltered to the point of never having seen a nudie magazine before or even knowing that such a thing existed. "Put that trashy thing away and quit looking at it," Michonne suggested.

Rowan flipped through a few more pages before she did as Michonne suggested and stuffed the horrible magazine right back where she found it. Once Michonne turned her back Rowan grabbed the magazine back up and rolled it up tightly, stuffing it down into the very bottom of her shoulder bag.

The loud and very sastifying clank of the vending machine tipping over sounded loudly from outside the building, drawing the women to the doorway to watch as Daryl and Rick picked through their newfound treasure. Daryl held up the item he had been looking for. A can of orange soda. He hadn't been looking for the orange flavor specifically but he had been looking for soda pop. Rowan had never had soda before and he wanted to find a can for her to try. He stuffed the two cans he found into his backpack.

"Got some chocolate for you too baby," Daryl called over, reaching into the machine and pulling out a king sized pack of peanut butter cups. Rick reached in to grasp a package of Michonne's favorite candy when suddenly he was hit from behind. Not hard enough to really hurt but hard enough to send the candy flying back down into the bottom of the machine.

The hair on Tank's back prickled up and Rowan clapped her hands, calling the dog to her side. The man that had run into Rick was standing with his hands up. Daryl and Rick had their weapons pointed at him. If they decided to shoot at him, Rowan didn't want her dog getting shot. The man said he was running from the dead, but Rowan her her doubts. He didn't look out of breath or frightened.

Rick lowered his gun first, introducing himself to the strange man. But Daryl kept his bow up, not liking the way the man's eyes lingered on Michonne and Rowan. Something about the guy just seemed off to him, and that was before he introduced himself as Jesus. They had been making a lot of noise. Between flipping the vending machine and Tank's barking if there was a small herd of walkers in the area they would have already seen them. He was a fucking liar. There were no dead after him. When Jesus turned to Rowan and Michonne to ask the girls their names that was the last straw.

"You don't fuckin' talk to her," Daryl hollered, taking a few steps to the side and positioning himself between the women and this strange masked man. Tank growled, the noise rumbling low in his chest as he picked up on the mistrust in the timber of Daryl's voice. The large dog moved forward, taking up a defensive stance next to Daryl, his growls getting louder as he bared his teeth menacingly. His slick black fur was standing on end, making a mohawk down the center of his back. It only took one bark to send the stranger packing. He ran off the way he had some, around the back of the building.

The sound of gunshots rang out from the direction the man had gone. Michonne ran after Daryl and Rick with her sword drawn, leaving Rowan standing alone in the front of the building. She gasped in surprise and fumbled for the gun at her waist when the stranger dashed back around from the other side of the building, the opposite direction that her friends had gone. But he wasn't looking to do her harm. The man ignored her completely and made a run for their truck, jumping into it and firing up the engine. Before she could even think to do anything about it, the truck was speeding down the road with the vending machine dragging behind it.

"You shoulda shot his ass!," Daryl told her, his face flushed with anger.

"I'm not going to shoot someone over a truck," Rowan spit back. Aside from the fact that she still didn't even really know how to shoot or aim a gun, she wasn't willing to murder someone over a truck full of supplies even if she could shoot straight. Tank had made his way over to the edge of the road, growling as he watched the truck disappear. He barked once before he took off like a rocket in the direction the truck had gone, a few stray dry leaves kicking up behind him like a tiny tornado. Rowan didn't wait. She grabbed her shoulder bag to keep it from bouncing around and took off running after her dog.


	32. Chapter 32

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 32

Jesus had reached the gas station he had marked in his mind as a halfway point between Hilltop and the small town he was heading for when the beat up old moped he was driving broke down. He was debating whether or not to stay and try to fix it or to leave and look for another form of transportation when he heard a vehicle appraoching. As the large truck pulled up, Jesus hid out of sight to observe the people driving it without their knowledge. After watching the group for a few minutes he became reasonably sure that they were not part of Neegan's army. That made them fair game to steal from.

It was easy to bump into the man with the thinner build and lift the keys to the truck from his pocket. Jesus had gotten a good look at both the men but only a glimpse of the women before they had entered the small store to search around. Since they were now standing in plain sight he took a better look at them. One was muscular, dressed in a leather vest that was unlaced at the top to accomodate the fullness of her breasts. She was dark skinned with long dreads that were twisted up into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. There was a sword in her hands that she was holding in a way that made her skill with the weapon obvious. She looked like a survivor.

The other woman had a completely different vibe from the first. She was dressed in a well worn pair of flared jeans that were ripped at the knees and a colorful top that was snug enough to show the small hard bump of her pregnant stomach. Her hair was long and dark, braided in two long pigtails that fell forward over her shoulders. Every part of her body that was visible was covered in freckles.

Unlike the rest of the group the long haired woman didn't seem to find it necessary to point her weapon at him. Instead she was holding onto the collar of the large black dog in an attempt to keep the animal from lunging at Jesus. She even smiled at him. Not a full force grin, but more of a shy tentative look that made Jesus feel instantly terrible for what he was about to do to her and her companions. If he had run into just this woman, he would have offered to take her back to Hilltop straight away. But while she came off gentle and sweet, Jesus wasn't sure he trusted the other three people with her.

"What's your name?," he asked, hoping to bridge some sort of communication with the woman. If Jesus had been wondering which one of the two men she was affiliated with, he got his answer when the man with the longer hair and sleeveless vest on charged forward and took up a protective stance in front of her. Jesus didn't blame the man for being careful. He knew from experience what kind of people one was likely to run into on the road. Sick nasty violent people that might want to hurt these women or take them from their men.

"You don't talk to her," Daryl hollered. With that the large black dog broke free from the woman's grasp and charged forward. When it became clear to Jesus that he was about to become dog chow he took off running, the keys to the truck jingling in his hand. He threw a few firecrackers in a trash barrel to draw the group out behind the gas station while he stole their truck and all it's contents. As he ran around the building he saw the long haired woman was the only one still standing there. He watched her in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

TWD

Rowan ran as fast as she could, which was about twice as fast as everyone else could run. Along with the protection of her dogs, the only other reason she had made it so long on her own was her ability to outrun almost anyone and anything that came at her. She could hear Daryl screaming behind her, telling her to stop and wait for him. But Rowan was afraid if Tank got out of sight that she might lose the dog and never find him again. So she ran. The rubber soles of her shoes pounded against the pavement and her pigtails flew out behind her, swinging with the movements of her body.

Daryl cursed as he ran. Rowan was getting further and further away from him. He was angry with her for taking off and a little angry at himself for getting out of breath so easily. He really needed to quit smoking. When Rowan disappeared around a bend in the road, Daryl felt his heart bottom out into his stomach. Rick smacked at him to get his attention, also so out of breath that he couldn't speak. He pointed towards the woods. Daryl nodded. It would be faster to cut through the woods instead of taking the road around. They might catch up to Rowan quicker that way.

As Daryl hurried through the woods, his heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear it in his ears. He ducked under branches and pushed through bushes, scratching his arms and face. Seeing the large expanse of white metal appear through the breaks in the trees that could only be the truck that had just been stolen from him gave him a second spurt of energy. A thousand thoughts were flashing through his mind, the worst one being that maybe that Jesus guy had met the rest of his group there. He might have left the truck and taken Rowan, just like Beth had been taken. If Rowan was gone Daryl was afraid he might never find her again.

Rick caught Daryl by the back of his vest, slowing him down and signalling for him to wait instead of charging in head first. It took every bit of willpower Daryl had to force himself to stop and creep silently through the woods for the rest of the distance. When got close enough to see through Rowan through the trees he let out a sigh of relief. She was sitting on the back bumper of the truck talking to the man that had stolen it from them. Tank was lying on the ground near her feet. Jesus was standing nearby, speaking to her. It didn't look like she had been hurt or molested in any way, but Daryl could see that the man had Rowan's gun tucked into the back of his pants. And that pissed him off.

Rick signalled that he and Michonne were going around the other side of the truck. Daryl was going to stay put and box the man in, making sure he didn't get away. Once he got this guy the jerk was going to get the ass beating he deserved. Not only for stealing the truck but for taking Rowan's gun. For even getting close enough to her to take her weapon away.

Rowan knew something was about to happen when Tank was suddenly on his feet despite being worn out and tired from running so far. She was talking a little with the man that had taken their truck, trying to begin the conversation that should have happened back at the abandoned gas station. Their conversation was flowing awkwardly, neither of them being too willing to reveal much information to the other. She wished Aaron was with her. He was so much better than she was at talking to new people. Jesus had admitted that he had a camp that he was living at. From how clean he was Rowan had already guessed that. Before she could ask him any more questions Rick came out of nowhere and grabbed the man.

"Hold still and maybe we won't hurt you," Rick ordered as he seized him. Jesus kept still for a moment. But then he started fighting back. Rowan shreiked out her surprise and Tank started barking. The dog didn't charge either man yet, maybe because he was undecided as to which man he ought to be going after. Rick had been the one that startled his mistress but Rick was a friend and the man he was now wrestling with was a total stranger.

"Stop it right now," Rowan hollered, shocked at how hard the two men were hitting each other. Jesus kicked Rick in the hip hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. Someone was going to get hurt if they didn't stop. Tank growled at the strange man, still hesitating to charge since the man wasn't threatening Rowan directly. But when Jesus grabbed Daryl and slammed him against the side of the truck he made Tank's decision easy. The large dog lunged at the man and knocked him onto the ground. Jesus looked up to find a large set of bared teeth in his face and Rick standing over him with his gun pointed at his face as well. He couldn't see Michonne but she had already circled around behind him with her sword out in case he tried any more of his tricks. Daryl was checking Rowan over to make sure she wasn't hurt while he loaded an arrow into his bow and cocked the string back.

"This is done," Rick told him. Rowan could tell the man on the ground was scared to death of her dog so she smacked her hand against her thigh and called Tank back to her side, making sure to give him lots of praise and affection for doing a good job and helping Daryl. The man was lucky he didn't get bit grabbing Daryl like that. Even Rowan was a little angry. She didn't like anyone laying hands on her husband and their unfortunate encounter with the women that took him by force had left it's impression on her. Jesus was getting no further compassion from her. Daryl gave Tank a quick scratch behind the ears before he took his place at Rick's side and pointed his loaded bow at the man.

"Do you even have any ammo?," Jesus asked, pulling Rowan's gun from the back of his pants and tossing it over where it slid and landed near her feet, "I know she didn't have any." He eyed Daryl's bow with a little more concern. A walker was stumbling out of the woods behind Michonne and Rick lifted his gun and shot it point blank in the head. Then he pointed the gun back at the man on the ground.

"Okay," Jesus said, putting his hands up in a mock gesture of defeat, "Are you going to shoot me over a truck?"

"There's a lot of food on that truck," Rick said. He didn't really want to shoot this man but he also wasn't willing to give up the truck or its contents. Michonne edged forward, holding the tip of her sword down where the man could see it. She was tired and sweaty. Her breasts hurt from being away from her son for longer than she was used to. Unlike Rick she was ready to stick this man like a pig if he gave them any further trouble.

"Give us the keys to the truck," she ordered. When Jesus hesitated she brought the tip of her sword down, pushing the razor sharp edge of it close enough to make a tiny line of blood swell up on the line of his jaw. The man yelped, fear showing in his facial expressions for the first time since they met him. He kept perfectly still until Michonne pulled the sword back, giving him a little room to move. There were no further tricks. Jesus pulled the keys from his pocket and handed them over.

"Come on, let's just go," Rowan suggested. She stood up and pulled the rolling door of the truck down, locking it into place. Jesus watched the four people, wondering with some concern for his safety what they planned to do with him now that they had what they wanted. He knew he had been right about these not being Neegan's people, if they were they would already be beating him to death. But despite not being associated with the biggest bully in the tri county area, these people were tough. Much tougher than the people in the group Jesus was a part of. And they had to be part of a bigger group. There was no way four people would need as many supplies as they had loaded up in that truck. The wheels in Jesus's head were turning. He was staring to think that having his moped break down was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. Maybe he had stumbled upon the very people he had been searching for.

"We should kill him," Michonne announced, glancing towards Rick and Daryl to see what they thought. She could already guess Rowan's opinion on the matter. And thinking of Rowan, Michonne was surprised to see that she was leaning against the truck with her arms crossed instead of charging over and insisting they let this man go. She even had a little scowl on her face as she stared at him. Daryl shrugged before he turned and walked away. He couldn't care less what Rick and Michonne did with the jerk as long as he wasn't going to be any further trouble to them. He had bigger concerns at the moment.

"I told you to load this gun," Daryl reminded Rowan and he snatched the empty handgun up off the pavement. Not only had he told her to load it, he had made her load it while he watched. Since it was unloaded again it could only mean she waited until he wasn't looking and shook the bullets back out. Again. "Where'd you put the bullets?," Daryl demanded, "and ya betta not have thrown 'em out the window again so help me Rowan!" Daryl thrust his open had towards the woman, motioning for her to give him the bullets.

Rowan thought about refusing him. Or lying and saying she tossed the bullets out the window of the car. But she could see that Daryl was actually rather angry with her and did not appear to be in the mood for her games. Rowan gave him a sheepish grin as she dug deep down into the pocket of her jeans to retrieve the bullets she had hidden away there. Daryl took them, poking through and tossing out the pocket lint and bits of colored string that were tangled up around the ammunition. Then he loaded up Rowan's gun, mumbling curses under his breath as he worked. "Don't take 'em out again," he warned, "this ain't no damn game."

Once it was loaded, Daryl shoved the gun back at Rowan who took the weapon and held it away from her body like it was a disease. She was afraid of the gun now that it was loaded. Daryl shook his head at her and unbuckled the leather utility belt he had around his own waist. Wrapping it around Rowan's slimmer waist, he tightened it up to the smallest precut hole in the leather, grateful that being pregnant had made her rounder or else the stupid thing wouldn't have stayed on even on the smallest notch. After buckling the belt around her, Daryl took the gun and showed her the small metal switch on the side of it.

"This is the safety," Daryl told her, even though he knew Rowan's father had tried teaching her about guns until he was blue in the face and ready to shake her silly, "When it's up, the gun is _off._ Works the same as taking the bullets out." Rowan nodded, her eyes big and round as she stared at him. Daryl took the gun and stuffed it into the holster on her waist, fastening the leather strap down over it with a snap. Having the leather belt snug around her hips accentuated the swell of her stomach and Daryl found his hand resting there next, rubbing her softly through her shirt.

Rowan's hand came up to cup his face. Her bottom lip began to quiver. "Are you alright?," she asked, "He hit you so hard." Daryl chuckled and hugged her against him. The soda cans in his bag had taken a worse beating than he had. Merle used to hit him harder than that when they were play fighting. He liked how worried she was about him though. It made him feel good inside. No one in his life ever cared about him like Rowan did. If he hurt she hurt along with him. Like they were two halves of the same person.

Once he let go of Rowan, Daryl turned to see what Michonne and Rick had decided to do with the asshole truck thief. Rick was tying him up, which made Daryl smile. That dick was lucky he didn't run into pre-Alexandria Rick. Marriage and a new baby had softened the man up and not necessarily in a bad way. Rick wasn't weak, but he was less bitter and more willing to give people the benefit of the doubt than he had been before.

"You're just going to leave me here like this?," Jesus asked. He knew that he was going to be able to escape from the ropes the moment Rick turned his back. But he was curious so see what the man's response to the question would be.

"The knots aren't that tight," Rick said, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You'll be able to get free and we will be long gone from here."

With that the small group turned away and headed towards the cab of the truck. Jesus watched the long haired woman. She was chewing her lip, looking like she wasn't as comfortable as everyone else was with leaving a defenseless man tied up on the side of the road. Pausing at the corner of the truck, she looked back at him. Quickly she pulled a knife that she had hidden under the leg of her pants and slid it across the pavement towards him. She gave him a pretty smile and a wiggle wave of her fingers. And then she was gone. Jesus heard the passenger door of the truck slam shut.

As Rick drove, Michonne handed him small pieces of a candy bar they were sharing. Daryl took the one unbusted can of soda and popped the top of it, sucking the foam off before he handed it to Rowan. She sniffed at the beverage first, her nose wrinkling up. Slowly she lifted the can to her lips and took the tiniest sip possible. Michonne laughed and Daryl pulled Rowan close to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"How was it?," Rick asked, also curious to see what her reaction to the drink would be. He could still remember Carl's first taste of soda. He had a belly ache and Lori gave him a cup of watered down ginger ale over ice.

"Spicy," she declared. The cab of the truck exploded in laughter. Rowan coughed a little into her free hand as Michonne reached for the can to get a sip for herself. They passed the can around until it was gone and shared another candy bar for dessert. Tank got a package of turkey jerky that he devoured like it was the best thing he had ever eaten in his life. Rowan giggled at her dog. She didn't care too much for jerky, and she liked the chocolate better than the soda. That stuff had a weird sugary bite to it that she didn't think she could ever get used to. Daryl had been cute getting it for her though, so she had made sure to pretend she really liked it. Daryl and Rick started talking about the man that had been seen spying on Enid and Carl and what they planned to do about it.

"Look there," Michonne said, tapping Rick's leg to get his attention and pointing out the driver's side window, "A barn."

"We should stop," Rowan added. She wanted to check the barn. But what she really wished was for a way to take some of the heavy farming equiptment back to Alexandria. The larger scale farming they were doing would go a thousand times faster with a proper tractor.

As they pulled off the road onto more bumpy terrain a strange thumping noise could be heard. At first Daryl was worried it was a flat tire. But the noise was coming from the roof of the truck, not the wheels. He motioned for everyone to keep quiet. Then he pointed up.

"That sumbitch is on the damn roof," he announced.

"Hold on," Rick hollered, holding his hand out to keep Michonne from flying forward. Daryl gripped his seat with one arm and Rowan with the other. Rick slammed on the brakes. Sure enough a body came flying down from the roof, landing in the soft grass in front of the truck. There was a collective gasp, everyone except Tank leaning forward to see if the man was hurt after his fall. Jesus popped up. He stared at them through the windshield for just a moment. Then he began to run.

Rick stepped down on the gas, intending to chase the man down. Daryl shifted Rowan from his lap and grabbed for the door. Rowan squeaked out his name and grabbed at the back of his vest, trying to keep him inside the truck. But the rough fabric slipped through her fingers and he was gone. Michonne was next, climbing over Rowan and leaping out of the moving vehicle, ignoring Rick as he screamed at her to stay in the truck.

The three people outside the truck were running around after each other like total maniacs. Rowan wasn't even sure what Daryl planned to do if he caught the man. She supposed he might want to beat him up a little even though she wasn't sure what that would accomplish. Jesus was using the truck, trying to keep it between him and his pursuers. So Rick jammed on the brakes and threw it into reverse, backing far enough away that he figured the truck was safe.

"Watch the truck," Rick ordered. Then to Rowan's absolute horror he leaped out as well, leaving her in a running vehicle.

"No!," she hollered after him, "I can't watch the truck! I don't even know how to drive!" Tank jumped up into the seat Rick had vacated and started barking. Rowan leaned around him and made sure the door was latched. She had no idea what was going on outside the truck but the last thing she wanted was for Tank to get involved. Everyone around her seemed to have gone completely insane. Now Rick and Michonne were cutting down a bunch of walkers. She didn't see Jesus and Daryl coming at her until it was too late or she would have locked the door to the truck to keep the man from getting back inside.

The sudden jerk of the door being opened startled Tank and the big dog fell back, landing on his back between the seat in a very awkward position, his giant paws clawing at the air. It took Rowan a moment before she even realized what was happening. Jesus was still trying to steal their damn truck. Again. Rowan had never struck a person in anger all her life. But without thinking she cocked her hand back and slapped the man. She had been aiming for his face but she had squeezed her eyes shut at the last moment and ended up bringing her open palm slapping down across his ear. The man grunted and twisted in the seat like he meant to start fighting her. Rowan opened her mouth and screamed, flattening herself back against the passenger door of the car.

For a moment Rowan was really afraid. Her arms came down, wrapping protectively around her stomach. But then Daryl was there, hitting the man and trying to drag him from the car. Rowan watched them struggle, trying to keep from being hit herself. But then she saw the walker. It was coming up behind Daryl, looking ready to bite him. Rowan grabbed for the gun at her waist, struggling to get it out of the holster. She gasped as she felt it being yanked from her hands. Jesus took her gun and he was pointing it at Daryl. Rowan felt her eyes already filling up with tears. Time seemed to slow down and she could only think one thing. _DUCK!_

"Duck!," Jesus yelled. Then to Daryl's surprise the man shot the walker that was coming at them. Saved or not, Daryl still wanted the man away from Rowan. He grabbed at the gun, knocking it from Jesus's hands and onto the floorboards of the truck. By this time Tank had managed to get back onto his feet. And he was none too happy about a strange man not only being in Rowan' space but fighting with Daryl as well. While Rowan was number one, Daryl was a close second when it came to the large dog's affections. And Tank didn't tolerate anyone hurting the members of his pack. He opened his large mouth and clamped down hard onto the part of the man that was closest to him. Luckily, or unluckily depending on one's perspective, he bit down hard on Jesus's backside. Tank's teeth sunk straight through the man's protective clothing, not stopping until he could taste the man's blood in his mouth.

Jesus turned, yelping and trying to shake himself loose from Tank's hard pinching bite. Daryl used the opportunity to punch him in his face and grab hold of him, dragging him from thr truck. He wasn't sure what sort of game this man was playing at but he was sick of it. To keep from being drug to the ground, Jesus grabbed for anything that he could hold onto. The gear shift slipped through his fingers but not before the truck was knocked into reverse. Jesus and Daryl hit the ground as the truck started rolling backwards towards the lake. The door swung shut, hitting Jesus in the head and knocking him out cold.

Rowan was in a panic. She hurtled herself over her dog and back into the driver's seat. She would have been better off just leaping from the truck and letting it roll empty into the lake but she was desperate to try and save the large supply of food that was stacked neatly inside the back of the truck. They needed that food badly if Alexandria was going to make it through another winter. Rowan grabbed the steering wheel and pounded on it. All that did was honk the horn and scare her more. She knew Rick had been controlling the truck with the pedals on the floor. She had enough knowledge to understand that the pedal on the right was the one he used to make the truck go forward. So Rowan stomped down on it with her foot. The engine roared. But instead of lurching the van forward and away from the water behind her, it sent her and the truck splashing and sinking right down into the murky water.

Daryl scrambled to his feet just into to see the truck flying down the steep incline into the lake behind it. The water must have been a lot deeper than it looked. Because within seconds it had swallowed the entire van. The last thing he saw of Rowan was her pale hands pressing against the driver's side window in her vain attempt to get the door open. The water muffled the noise but he could hear Tank howling as the truck disappeared under the water.


	33. Chapter 33

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 33

Tank was howling. The noise reverberated off the insides of the cab, almost sounding like it was getting louder instead of being muffled by the water that engulfed them. Rowan grabbed the large dog and hugged him close to calm him as the engine of the truck sputtered and died. Water was pouring in from the bottom, the cab of the truck slowly filling up like a fishbowl. The dome lights inside the truck flickered on, filling the inside of the truck with with an artificial glow before they flickered off again. Rowan knew she had to get herself and Tank out or they were both going to drown.

Rowan lifted her feet into the seat and away from the dark murky water that was quickly inching towards her. The moment she let go of Tank the large dog started barking again. He jumped up in the passenger seat, snapping and snarling at the rising water like he could scare it into draining back out of the truck. Rowan ignored the noise and tried not to think about how much it was making her already sore ear hurt. Her first thought was to try the door. If she opened it they could just swim out. The water wasn't that deep. As she peered up through the windshield she could still see a bit of light breaking through the surface of the water. The air above felt like it was close and a million miles away at the same time.

Grapsing the handle of the door, Rowan yanked it and shoved at the door as hard as she could. The door not only didn't open, it didn't even budge one tiny inch. She knew one of the controls on the door was bound to open the window. Rowan tried all of them with no sucess. The water had risen up even further, sloshing up above the seats and wetting her pants and shoes. Rowan could feel the panic rising up inside her and she started pounding on the window with her fists. She even lifted up her foot and tried to kick at the glass in a vain attempt to break it.

Rowan forced herself to slow her breathing down and concentrate. She pawed through her bag, looking for anything that might be of help. She had her slingshot and a few small rocks. Loading one up she pulled the cup back and fired it directly at the window. The rock hit the glass with a ping and bounced back, lodging itself in the roof of the truck. Rowan shrieked and held her arms to keep from being hit. She had given her large knife to Jesus. She still had a smaller knife but she doubted that would be of any more help than the slingshot. Rowan shoved her feet down into the water and braced her feet against the floor as she again attempted to force the door open. She couldn't get any traction in the water. All she suceeded in doing was almost twisting her ankle stumbling over something hard.

The water was rising quickly and soon they only a small gap of air to breathe. Rowan's mind was racing and suddenly she realized what had just happened. She had stepped on something hard under the water. But not just anything. It was her gun. The one Daryl had loaded for her. It dropped to the floor after Daryl and Jesus got done fighting over it. Rowan took a deep breath and ducked down under the water. Her long braids floated up above her head as she dove down. She combed the floor of the truck with her hands until she felt the hard metal of the weapon in her hand. Rowan swam back up and sucked in a lungful of air. Pressing the muzzle flush up against the window she pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

Rowan started to really panic. Tank was treading water to keep his head above the water line. They were going to drown inside this truck. She had assumed at first that the gun just wouldn't work under water. But then her thumb brushed against the little switch on the back of the gun. The safety. That's what Daryl called it. That had to be flipped down in order for the gun to fire. Rowan shoved it down, ripping her nail back in her rush to save herself and her dog. She pressed the gun against the window and pulled the trigger a second time. This time the window shattered with a satisfying crack. Rowan used the gun to break the rest of the glass out.

Tank was in more of a panic than she was. He was snorting water, all four of his legs paddling frantically. Rowan grapsed his collar and pulled hard. He didn't want to put his head underwater and she knew he was going to fight her. She yanked as hard as she could, her own head going under as she swallowed a large mouthful of the dirty lake water. It tasted like rotten fish and dirt. She braced her feet against the opposite seat and shoved the large dog towards the open window with all the strength she had inside her. Tank popped out the opening like a cork and then he was gone, swimming upwards towards his freedom.

Rowan was almost out of air. There was only a pocket of it left in the windshield area. She spun and turned her body, pressing her lips almost against the glass to suck it in. Then she pushed off and swam through the opening. It got a little scary again when her shoulder bag caught on the rearview mirror and threatened to hold her inside the truck. But she kicked it hard with her foot and the mirror broke loose and released her. Within moments her head was bobbing above water. Daryl was in the water with her and he pulled her to him. They treaded water together for a moment before he started swimming her towards the shore.

The solid ground under her feet had never felt so good. Daryl was barefoot and shirtless and he was squeezing her so hard she could barely breathe. _Are you alright? Is the baby okay? Don't know what I would have done if I lost you._ Tank ran over and chose the few feet of space between Rick and Michonne to shake himself off. Both of them got splattered with dirty lake water and as he hurried back to Rowan's side, Tank kicked up a little dirt at them as well. Rick laughed and sat down in the dirt to pull his shoes back on. He had been ready to dive into the water after Daryl if Rowan hadn't popped up when she did.

Tank flopped down in the soft grass near the edge of the lake and rolled over onto his back. Wriggling his legs in the air he rubbed the smell of the grass into his fur in an attempt to rid himself of as much of the lake water as possible. Daryl ducked back, keeping his hands on Rowan's shoulders as he looked her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. The thumb she used to click the safety of the gun down was bleeding a little and she had cut her arm on a sliver of glass when she swam through the window of the car. But other than being wet and having a few minor scratches she was unharmed.

Daryl hugged her against his chest a second time. He didn't squeeze her as tightly as he had the first time but she could still feel his fear and desperation at the thought of losing her. His strong feelings were catching and Rowan found herself being swept away by them. Her hands rubbed up the marred skin of his back and she pressed her lips to his. The kiss started rough and sloppy as their noses bumped. At the warm press of his tounge Rowan parted her lips, her hands that had been softly caressing his back now gripping his flesh hard enough the he could feel the pinch of her fingernails.

A low moan from the man on the ground caught Daryl's attention. He pecked Rowan on the mouth one more time before stepping away from her and approaching the man he felt was responsible for almost killing his wife. The man moaned again and rolled over onto his back. Daryl waited until his eyes fluttered open before he punched him in the face. The blow knocked the man back out. Daryl stood up and brushed himself off before turning to see what Rowan's reaction to his sudden act of violence might be. She was twisting one of her long braids up like a rope, trying to squeeze the water out of it. She didn't seem to be anywhere close to being upset about his actions and that surprised Daryl a little.

"Feel better?," she teased.

"Yeah," Daryl admitted, "I do." Rowan giggled. She tossed the first braid behind her back and started twisting up the second one.

"He's lucky my dad's not here," Rowan added, gesturing to the unconcious man on the ground, "or he would've got a lot worse." Seeing that Rowan was paying attention to the man on the ground made Tank curious. The large dog padded over and started sniffing at the man. After pawing at him Tank leaned in close and began giving the man a thorough tounge bath. Rowan shook her head at the dog. Tank had his own ideas about who he liked and why. She wasn't sure why he had decided that Jesus was his friend but watching his lick the man like he was one of Lily's pups made her smile.

"What are we going to do with him?," Michonne asked.

"You mean if he has any skin left after Tank gets done with him," Rick quipped. Rowan smacked her leg and called the big dog away. She felt like she ought to give her opinion but she honestly wasn'y sure how she felt about the man on the ground. He had been nice to her when they were talking together by the truck. But then he had gone and attacked Daryl after that. And his reckless behavior had almost gotten her killed. On the other hand he had saved Daryl from being bitten by that walker. It was hard to know what the right thing to do would be. She didn't want to leave Jesus out here to die. But bringing him back to town might be dangerous. Once he knew where they lived there would be nothing to stop Jesus from taking off and telling his group where they were.

"We can put him up a tree," Daryl suggested. Michonne spoke up, saying she wanted to leave the man where he lay. But Rick had other ideas.

"He's clean. His beard is trimmed. He has a camp somewhere...," Rick said. He moved close to Michonne and spoke mostly to her since she was the one he expected an objection from. His arm wrapped around her waist and she leaned into him. Watching Daryl and Rowan kissing after her brush with death had Michonne feeling more romantic than usual. She kissed Rick on the cheek and smiled at him, suddenly feeling like she was in the mood for something other than another argument.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take him with us," she conceded, "...just to find out what he knows." The man had been a royal pain in the ass. He called himself Jesus. He had mucked up their perfect day. But he had never pulled a weapon on them or seriously hurt anyone even though he had ample opportunity. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy.

"Hey!," Rowan said as she pointed across the field, "we can use that tractor to get the truck out of the lake."

The cardboard boxes were hopelessly soaked. But most of the items inside them were canned or packaged. As long as they set everything out to dry once they got back to Alexandria so that nothing molded or rusted, most everything inside the truck was salvageable. It took just over an hour to get everything loaded into the back of one of the working pickups they found on the farm.

Michonne drove on the way home. Rowan rode shotgun with Tank between the two women. He sat between the seats panting with his long pink tounge hanging out. As she drove, Michonne reached over to scratch behind his ears. Rick and Daryl rode in the back with the supplies so they could keep a watchful eye on their guest. Lulled by the cooling breeze and the soothing motion of the truck, Rowan leaned her head back and let her eyes blink shut. When she woke up she was in Daryl's arms and he was carrying her up the steps to their house.


	34. Chapter 34

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 34

Rowan sat on the edge of the thin mattress. Her arms wrapped around her knees as she hugged them to her body. She tried not to think about the last man that had been held capitve in the same space. She could almost still see him there if she squinted her eyes just right. She made herself stop. Jesus was not Derek.

Sensing the change in her emotional state, Tank moved towards the woman and nudged his giant head under her arm. Rowan tilted her head, pressing her forehead to his. The fur between Tank's eyes was soft and silky, a different texture from the rest of his body. The fishy smell of the lake still clung to him, diguising his normal musky dog scents. He licked Rowan and wet her cheek, pressing his warm muzzle against the skin of her neck. After a few pets he resumed his watchful stance at her side.

Rowan stared at the unconcious man lying on the mattress next to her. She concentrated on his aura, trying as she had in the brief time she had spent with him near the stolen truck to get a feel for the type of man that he was. His head injury and his unconcious state had dulled his color. But it had not made him unreadable. His aura was a sea of violet with a sprinkling of orange and green. The combination was unusual, which was part of the reason she had trouble deciding what to make of Jesus when he had approached them on the road.

Reaching down, Rowan picked up one of the man's hands and sandwiced it between her own. She closed her eyes and tried to let his energy flow through her.

"I'm almost done," she said, speaking quietly to Daryl. He hadn't spoken but he was hovering in the doorway of the room, eager to get her home and changed into dry clothes. Eager to get her alone so that he could finally release the strong emotions that came with nearly losing her to Poseidon earlier that day. She could taste his impatience like a peppery spice on the tip of her tounge. Daryl's presence was engulfing and in her eagerness to lose herself in his touch, for a moment the hand between Rowan's was just a hand again.

She didn't will those feelings away. Rowan tucked them away, just for a moment, and concentrated again on the man lying next to her. She took a long deep breath, feeling only the sensitive skin of her palm where Jesus's hand was touching hers. If he was dangerous, she couldn't sense it. The tightening of her nipples came on her like a flash grenade. Her visions were never something Rowan had been able to understand or control. But this one was more clear than most. She saw Morgan there. Sitting on the bed near Jesus's head. He was smiling.

"Yer shiverin'," Daryl said, unable to stay silent any longer. Rowan allowed her husband to help her up from the floor. Jesus's hand slipped from her grasp and landed on the mattress next to him with a soft thud. "Come on Roe," Daryl encouraged as he steered her towards the door, "Let's go home."

Lily and Morgan greeted them at the door. Morgan jumped up, unable to contain his excitement at having all his favorite friends arrive home at the same time. Tank barged between Rowan and the other dog, snapping and growling at him until the large white beast rolled on his back and bared his belly. Rowan shook her head and tried not to laugh. She had noticed that as her pregnancy progressed, Tank had been becoming more and more protective over her. It didn't help that Daryl was encouraging and rewarding the large dog's aggressive behavior. Even now he was petting Tank and telling him that he did a good job keeping Morgan from jumping on her. Rowan was starting to get a little worried about what the dog's reaction would be once her baby came. She appreciated the extra protection but she was also afraid someone who meant well or just wanted a peek at her infant might end up on the wrong side of the dog's powerful jaws.

Daryl disappeared into the kitchen. All three dogs went chasing after him with their giant tails wagging. Rowan could hear the rustle of a large dog food bag and then the clink of the dried commercial food being dumped into the large metal bowls that served as dog food dishes. Daryl popped back out of the kitchen a few moments later. Taking her hand in his he headed straight for the stairs, pulling Rowan along behind him. He had her still soaking wet messenger bag over his shoulder and it slapped against his hip as he mounted the steps. Pulling her inside their bedroom, Daryl shut and locked the door behind them. Rowan smiled. It was Daryl's habit to lock the door. But only if he planned on having some sort of private relations with her. The sound of the lock clicking into place had become a strange sort of aphrodisiac for her. The metallic clink immediately made her feel a delicious clench deep inside her body.

Rowan's pregnancy made everything in her life feel exaggerated. When she was sad she was desperately miserable. When she was happy she was so full of joy that she couldn't contain herself. And when she saw Daryl stripping off his damp shirt she felt like she might die if she couldn't have him right that moment. Pulling off her own shirt, Rowan closed the distance between them and pressed her body against his. The hard round swell of her belly smashed between them and she twisted her body left and right, trying to get at an angle where she could get her hips flush against his.

Her hands skimmed over the bare skin of his back as his lips found hers. Rowan kissed him with all the passion she felt inside. Her tounge parted his lips and dipped inside to taste him. His arms were around her, holding her close to him. He kissed her back, moaning his pleasant surprise at how aggressive she had suddenly become. Then he pulled back, putting his hands on her hips to keep her from lunging at him again.

"Yer ice cold," he said, his concern for her showing plainly in his voice. Rowan's skin was almost always warm to the touch. At the moment even her lips were cold when he kissed her and her creamy skin looked paler than normal under her freckles. The hard points of her nipples poked at the thin damp fabric of her bra. Her normally dark eyes had turned to liquid night with her desire for him. Daryl toed off his boots and lifted her up into his arms, hugging her close as he headed for the bathroom.

Setting Rowan down, Daryl turned and twisted the knob that made the shower kick on. He stuck his hand under the water as he adjusted the temperature, making it as hot as possible without being scalding. Though this process only took him a few seconds, when he turned back around Rowan was already naked. She was standing next to the sink, twisting a long lock of her hair between her fingers as her eyes roamed over him. Without clothes on her belly looked more pronounced. It was firm and perfectly round, like someone had cut a basketball in half and placed it under her skin. Her hips and breasts were fuller and he knew if she turned around he would see that the twin dimples on her lower back were slightly deeper.

She bit at her lower lip, moving forward to help Daryl rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Once his pants were unzipped she lost interest in getting them off and suddenly became far more eager to get at what was inside of them. The heavy romance of the moment was lost when she closed down around his erection with her freezing cold hands. Daryl gave a little yelp of surprise as he jerked back from her.

"Yer hands are cold," he complained. Rowan giggled out her apology as she eased herself under the stream of hot water, making sure to lift her hands up and place them directly under the spray to warm them. Seeing the water slide down over her naked body was enough cause an instant recovery in Daryl's groin. He quickly shed what remained of his clothing and stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

The steam was curling up around them as it began to fill the room. Rowan slid to the side, making room for him to get under the shower next to her. Their kisses often started off soft and gentle leading up to something more substantial. But not this time. As soon as his lips touched hers, Daryl felt Rowan's lips part. She wanted as much of him inside her as she could get, starting with his tounge. When he slid it past her full lips she sucked at the tip of it. Her water warmed hands travelled down the length of his body, pausing on the firm round curve of his ass before slipping between their wet bodies.

"Better?," she asked. One of her slim hands was wrapped around the throbbing base of him while she reached under his erection with the other to fondle the parts of him that most women tended to neglect. Daryl's only response to her question was to moan softly into her mouth and deepen their kiss. He closed his eyes and held her close, one arm around her waist and the other fondling her breasts. When he realized he was already teetering on the verge of his climax Daryl caught Rowan by her wrists and pulled her arms up to wrap them around his neck.

"Jus' slow it down fer a second," he cautioned her. Rowan left her hands where he had put them but she didn't stop kissing him. Leaving a burning trail, she kissed a path from the sensitive spot behind his ear down his jawline leading to his parted lips. She moved her hips, lifting up on one pointed toe before trying to twist the other way. Her stomach felt like it had doubled in size since the last time they made love and her frustration at not being able to get his penis where she wanted it was becoming obvious. She felt like she was trying to have sex with a giant roadblock between her and the object of her desire.

Since Daryl was usually the one that was overeager to posess her, he found himself enjoying Rowan's frustration more than he thought he would. He leaned down to nibble at the sweet spot he knew was there on the cords of her neck. If they were having sex and he was afraid he might get off before she did, all he had to do was nibble or kiss on that spot and it would be enough to send her over the edge. Rowan groaned low in her throat. The noise was a new one for her and it reminded Daryl a bit of an angry kitten. She grabbed for his hand and pushed it between her legs, guiding one of his thick fingers inside her. He had been playing a little teasing game with her but as soon as he felt how wet the insides of her were Daryl started panting and moaning along with her.

He slipped one finger as deep inside her as it would go before adding a second one. Her arms went back up around his neck and she returned her lips to his. It only took three rough pumps of his fingers into her before she was collapsing in his arms. Pulling his hand out from between them, Daryl used his arms to hold her up. Rowan rested her head on his shoulder. _Love you so much._ He wasn't sure if she had spoken the words out loud or not. When they were intimate together thoughts and feelings seemed to flow between them with little effort.

"Love you too," he mumbled.

The hot steam in the bathroom was starting to get oppressive. So Daryl snaked one hand down and twisted the water off. He pulled the curtain back and stepped out, keeping ahold of Rowan while she did the same since she still didn't look too steady on her feet yet. Grabbing the colorful robe Rowan kept on the back of the bathroom door, Daryl draped it around her shoulders before taking a towel from the closet and wrapped it around his waist. Rowan pulled her robe shut and grabbed another towel for her hair. She pulled her wet braids loose and twisted the towel around her head like a turban.

Daryl opened the door, letting a large cloud of steam puff out into the bedroom. The cooler air came rushing at them and Rowan darted past him, heading straight for the bed to dive under the covers. Daryl followed her, shedding his towel on the floor next to the bed. He pulled her close, enjoying the shared body heat between them. Kissing her warm lips led him to thoughts of how wet and tight her insides had felt wrapped around his fingers. Their roles from under the hot spray of the water reversed. He became the hunter and she his prey as he reached under the heavy blankets to pull her robe open.

After some awkward rolling and a fumble of limbs and other assorted body parts Daryl ended up his back with his knees bent as Rowan lowered herself down onto his thick length. She used her hand to guide him inside before leaning slightly forward and bracing her hands against his chest. The moment he was buried inside her all the fear and despair he had felt watching that truck sink down under the water with Rowan inside it came rushing back. He grasped her hips, pulling her up and slightly onto her knees until he had her positioned where he wanted her.

Daryl lowered his hips to the mattress, pulling himself almost completely out of her before pushing back in. He felt her insides quiver in response to being so completely filled. Her tattooed fingers bent slightly, her nails digging into the flesh of his chest. Repeating the same motion, he pushed into her again even harder and faster than the time before. Her breasts bounced and the towel that was wrapped around her hair came flopping down onto the pillow next to his head. Rowan never had a problem speaking up if he did something that didn't feel good to her. It didn't happen often but it had happened enough times that he knew he ought to feel secure in the fact that if she wasn't complaining then he wasn't hurting her. Still he felt the same new fear invading his thoughts. _Don't be too rough. You might hurt the baby._

"Don't stop," she sighed. This left Daryl wondering if he had spoken his fears out loud or if she had just guessed what he was thinking when he paused in hesitation before entering her again. To reinforce her desires and ease Daryl's worry she pushed down with her hips, her ass slapping hard against the meat of his thighs as she took his entire length in one fluid motion. Once he was deep inside her warm folds Rowan leaned down and planted a loving kiss on his lips, lifing back up to smile down at him. That was all the encouragement he needed. Daryl grabbed her hips, placing Rowan back where he wanted her to be. Then he began thrusting into her. Her cries got louder the harder and faster he went. But it was feeling her come undone from the inside out that put him over the edge. Her walls squeezed down so tight as she convulsed around him that he had no idea how what he was doing wasn't causing her intense pain. Daryl pushed her hips down onto his as he spilled himself inside her. He held her there for just a moment longer, enjoying the warmth and closeness of her body.

Rowan couldn't keep her body upright for one more second. Her arms felt like noodles and she flopped down onto the pillows. The warmth of Daryl's body was gone. But only for a moment. He cracked open the bedroom door so the dogs could come and go as they please before diving back under the covers with her.

"I wish my belly wasn't so big," Rowan mumbled as she rolled onto her side so Daryl could snuggle in behind her. His hand slid down to rest on the swollen belly in question.

"I like yer belly," he assured her, "Like what's inside of it too." Rowan had never been the type of woman that seemed insecure about her looks. But he just assumed that being pregnant had made her more sensitive than normal.

"I do too," she murmured. She reached down and placed her hand on top of Daryl's, guiding him to the part of her belly where he might be able to feel the baby inside her moving. "I just don't like how it gets in the way when we're anakitchi-sun." Rowan allowed her accent to thicken up as she spoke the sioux word for love making. Daryl chuckled, his breath warm against the skin of her back. He liked when she talked to him in the other language she knew, especially if it was dirty talk.

"Jus' going ta have ta get a little more creative," he suggested. His hand pressed in gently and Rowan could feel him holding his breath behind her as he felt little flutters of movement under her skin. The baby already knew and loved her father. Rowan could tell because her daughter always moved when Daryl had his hand on her stomach. Rowan smiled and snuggled a little closer, humming her appreciation to Daryl's suggestion about getting more creative in their lovemaking. The idea appealed to her. While sex between them was never boring, they had gotten to know the positions and motions that they liked best as a couple and tended to repeat them in the same pleasurable pattern. A little more adventure in the bedroom had the potential to be fun and exciting for both of them.

"I felt her again," Daryl gushed. Rowan let her eyes blink shut. She felt perfectly content and full of love. And while the events of the day had been frightening to say the least, she was relieved by the idea that the terrible event that had been predicted by her mother's tarot card had already come to pass. Wrapped safe in Daryl's arms and surrounded by a shining bubble of his love for her and their unborn child, it felt to Rowan in that moment that evil couldn't touch them. The bad event that had been predicted had come to pass and both she and Daryl had survived it. Little did Rowan know that being trapped in a sinking car was only the beginning. The events of that day had set not just her and Daryl but the entire population of Alexandria and everyone they held dear down the beginnings of a dark path that once taken there would be no turning back from.


	35. Chapter 35

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 35

Deanna hummed as she made breakfast for Carl and Enid. Spencer had not officially moved out. Not yet. But he hadn't slept at home in nearly a month. While there was still no formal arrangement between them, he liked to sleep at Eugene and Olivia's house so that he could help Rosie with her baby during the night and in the mornings. Whether they were doing more than just sleeping together yet or not remained anyone's guess, but there seemed to be some genuine feelings building between the couple. Deanna was happy for her son. Especially now that it seemed more obvious than ever that nothing romantic was ever going to happen between him and Rowan. She wanted her son to be happy. But having Spencer gone made Aiden's absence tug harder on Deanna's heart strings than it had since the day her youngest son died.

Sausage and eggs and pancakes was going a little overboard for just a normal weekday morning. But Deanna was so happy to have kids in her house to make breakfast for that she had decided to throw caution to the wind and use the small amount of butter that she had left in her fridge. The end of the world had turned butter and fat back into the luxury items they had once been over a hundred years before. Nothing was wasted anymore. Even the grease from the bacon she was cooking would be drained and saved in a small crock that sat out on her counter to be put to further use.

Carl woke up already licking his lips. The smell of fatty meat frying had not been only a dream. He pushed his hair out of his face and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The other side of the bed was empty and he immediately started scanning the room for Enid. Knowing where the girl was and if she was safe seemed as necessary as air to him lately. On this morning she was easily found. Enid had pulled one of the plush chairs in the room over near the window and she was curled up in it, sipping something from a mug and using their high vantage point to look out over the wall into the woods beyond.

"Is that coffee?," Carl asked, sounding hopeful. Enid smiled without turning away from the window.

"Deanna made us hot cocoa." From the tone of her voice it was obvious that while Enid may have found Deanna's insistence upon treating them like children slightly comical, that didn't mean she wasn't enjoying it. Enid almost never mentioned it, but Carl knew she missed her mother. Being an only child, the two of them had been close. The woman's death had left a hole inside Enid's heart that she had been looking for someone to fill, even if her search had been on more of a subconcious level rather than outright intentional. "Yours is next to the bed," Enid added with another small smile before Carl could ask for a sip from her cup.

"Thanks," Carl said, pushing himself up into an upright enough position that he could grab for the mug and sip it without spilling. He couldn't remember the last time he had hot chocolate. He guessed his mother must have made it for him at some point in his childhood. Knowing his mother, the cocoa would had been from a box mix that came with the tiny dehydrated marashmallows already mixed in and not from scratch and mixed with fresh milk. Probably with a few chunks of the instant powder floating around in it from his mother not having stirred it enough. But he figured he still must have had it at least once. Carl scanned his brain, really trying to think about the last time he had a mug of hot cocoa. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to focus on such a minor detail, but it just annoyed him that his memories of life as it used to be before the turn were starting to get hazy and less clear as time went on. He didn't want to forget his mother. Judith would eventually get old enough to ask about the woman that had died bringing her into the world. And he wanted to be able to tell his sister what she had been like.

The loud protesting grumble of Carl's stomach pulled him out of his thoughts and back into the real world. He took a careful sip of his cocoa, checking to make sure it wasn't hot enough to burn his mouth. Finding it to be a comfortable temperature he slurped down about half the mug before slowing down and sipping the rest.

Enid was still staring out the window. Her legs were curled up in the seat of the chair. One bare foot stuck out, half covered with the leg of the plaid pajama pants she was wearing. Her hair was down and it was fluffed up around her face from the curls that had been put in it as part of her costume from the play the night before. Her face bore a serious expression. Even from the profile view he had, Carl could tell she had something on her mind.

Keeping a careful hold on his cocoa, Carl tossed the covers off and swung his legs out of bed. He moved across the floor and set his hand on Enid's shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. Her mug was nearly empty and the cup was resting on her thigh. She reached up with the other hand and squeezed him back, twining her fingers in with his.

"We should go downstairs," she told him, "Deanna's making a crazy big breakfast. I'm starving."

Despite her mention of how hungry she was, Enid made no move to rise from the chair she was sitting in. Carl pulled his fingers loose from hers and trailed his hand up the line of her neck. He stroked the soft round of her cheek with his knuckles before tracing down her jawline with the tips of his fingers. How soft her skin was never ceased to amaze him.

"Something wrong?," he asked her. Enid turned to face him, grasping his hand in hers again and planting a soft kiss in the center of his palm. She shook her head. Nothing was wrong. Well something was wrong. But nothing was wrong between her and Carl. She had up since the early hours of the morning, trying to figure out who she had seen spying on them the night before. At the time she had been too drunk and shaken up to remember the details. But after a few good hours of sleep she woke back up with her mind feeling more clear. The more she thought about it, the more sure she was that she knew who had been spying on her. But since Carl had already gotten into one physical fight with the boy in question, she didn't want to start any further trouble between the two young men unless she was absolutely sure that Ron had been the dark figure she had seen in their doorway. Right now all she had was a hunch.

TWD

"Okay Olivia!," Carl hollered much louder than was necessary for the woman to hear him, "If anyone needs us we will be out by the lake cabin!" Enid kept a tight hold of Comet's reigns. She buried her face into the large tan horse's neck to keep from laughing. She knew the plan was to be really obvious about where they were going. The theory was that whoever had been spying on them the night before might want to spy on them again. It was no secret that they liked to go out to the lake so they could be alone. So they walked the horses all around town, telling everyone they ran into where they were going in the hopes of baiting the spy into following them so they could catch him. The problem was theatre wasn't really Carl's strong suit. He was being a little too obvious.

"There's no reason to shout," Olivia announced as she backed up to save what was left of her hearing after Carl finished screamed almost directly into her face. "I'm standing right here."

"Sorry Olivia," he said, trying his best to keep a straight face. Eugene walked up behind the woman and slipped his arm around her waist. In his other and he was holding and apple that he was nibbling on. The sound of him crunching urged Molly forward. He tried unsuccessfully to hide the apple from the large black horse but she was wise to his tricks. Molly's head disappeared behind Eugene's back and popped back up with his apple gripped securely between her teeth. Eugene looked down at the horse slobber that was covering his hand like he was about to throw up a little in his mouth. Olivia laughed at him before she hurried away to get him a towel.

"Going to catch your spy today?," Eugene asked the young couple. Enid put her finger to her lips and shushed him. If the spy was listening in, she didn't want him to catch on and realize he was being led into a trap. "Sorry," Eugene said, lowering his voice significantly and giving Enid a wink, "good luck."

Spencer slid the gate open for them. Enid waved at the top of the guard tower. She couldn't see the woman but she knew Sasha was on guard duty. Once they led the horses past the maze of cars that were parked around the entrance to their town, Enid swung herself up onto the back of her horse. She was riding Comet and Carl was riding Molly, Rowan's horse. Enid had not been in favor of this part of the plan. Molly was harder to control and had a tendency to buck. But Carl was determined to get the black horse used to him. She was not only the prettiest horse they had, she was the fastest runner. Carl hoped that one day that skill might be of use.

Being young and hopeful, Carl thought much futher ahead into the future than most of the adults around him. According to the many books he had read on the subject, back in the frontier days mail and messages had been delivered by horse. And he felt Molly was the perfect horse for that job. They just needed to meet some people they could send messages to first.

Molly was prancing nervously. Carl was keeping her at a slow trot and the large black horse was eager to show him just how unhappy that was making her. Every few steps she would toss her head and paw at the ground. The more he tried to control her movements, the more determined she seemed not to listen to him.

"She does that to Rowan too," Enid said, pulling her much calmer horse up as close as she dared to the snorting prancing beast Carl was sitting on the back of. She fought the urge to tell he he had better get his feet out of the stirrups in case she bucked him off.

"How does Roe make her stop?," Carl asked. Rowan had strange ways of getting her animals to mind her but at this point he was willing to try anything. Molly was getting more agitated by the second and Carl had no desire to be bucked off the back of an angry horse and dragged through the woods.

"Rowan takes Molly for a hard run when she gets like that," Enid answered back, the smile already spreading across her face. Her eyes locked with Carl's. Before he could agree or disagree to her plan she kicked her heels into Comet's sides and pulled him hard to the left. The hard canter of the horse jogged and bounced her at first. But Enid had gotten in enough practice that she knew how to adjust how she was sitting to keep her ass from being pounded sore against the leather saddle. She leaned forward and kept her head low as the trees and bushes started whipping past.

Their well laid plans to catch Enid's peeping tom were quickly forgotten as they raced through the woods towards the lake. Molly only needed a slight nudge of encouragment. Once she got going Carl had no choice other than to cling to her back for dear life. Enid was next to him for a moment before he left her in his wake. Carl had seen Molly run before but riding her back as she did it was an entirely different experience. He developed a new level of respect for Rowan, who he knew often rode the horse at this speed bareback without any reigns. The woman had such a calming gentle vibe about her it was easy to forget that she had a wild streak.

Carl made it halfway around the lake before Molly finally slowed down. He slowed the horse to a hault, immediately noticing the difference in his ability to control her. Now that she had gotten her energy out, Molly was following his directions without complaint. Carl led her down to the egde of the water and loosened up on her reigns so she would be able to lean down and get a drink. After a few minutes he started glancing around nervously behind him, worried about where Enid was and why she hadn't shown up yet.

Carl forced himself to count. It wasn't time to panic yet. Enid might have just slowed her horse to a trot once he got far enough ahead of her that there was no way for her to catch up and beat him to the lake. Carl counted to one hundred twice as Molly quenced her thirst. Then he pulled hard on the horse's reigns and kicked in his heels, unable to wait any longer.

Molly was tired from her run, so she was more interested in a leisurely walk than in another race. Carl urged her forward, heading back along the same path he had taken to the lake. As he rounded the corner he saw Comet. Enid was missing from the tan horse's back. Carl's stomach bottomed out.

"Enid!," he screamed, not caring if every walker in the area heard him. "ENID!"

"Hey!," the girl shouted back, "I'm right here." She came around from behind the other side of the large horse. Carl would have seen her there if he had gotten just a little closer. He swung himself down from Molly's back and rushed at the girl. Pulling her so tight against his chest that the gun on her hip dug into his side, Carl kissed her. When he pulled away he saw that she wasn't alone.

Three strangers were standing near the edge of the wooded path. A man with medium length dirty blonde hair and two women were gathered together. They looked skinny and underfed, like they had been on the road a while. None of them had packs or bags of supplies though, which immediately struck Carl as strange. They only thing they were carrying was a beat up cooler.

The two women smiled at Carl and Enid. The man kept his hand on the knife at his hip and scowled until the darker haired women nudged him, indicating that she thought he ought to relax. Before any introductions could be made the blonde woman's face turned pale. Her female companion dropped the cooler she was clutching and attempted to keep the other woman on her feet.

"She been bit?," Carl asked, moving his body slightly in front of Enid's and pulling his gun from the holster. He didn't point it directly at the strangers. Not yet anyway. The darker haired woman held her hand up and shook her head.

"She's got diabetes...," the woman explained, "we ran out of insulin for her this morning." Carl turned towards Enid, the two of them exchanging worried glances. Bringing strangers into Alexandria was not forbidden, but it was usually Aaron or Heath that brought them in. Carl knew they preferred to watch the people for a while first. Aaron usually followed people to make sure they weren't part of another group first. But in this situation Carl wasn't going to have that luxury. He had to make a snap decision or else this woman was going to faint and likely die right in front of him.

"How many walkers have you...," he started in on the three questions. The ones they used to ask people before they allowed them into the prison community. But Enid cut him off before he could even finish the first one.

"We have a camp nearby," she said. She reached for Carl's hand a squeezed it to reassure him. "There's a medical center. A doctor. Maybe she could help?" The three strangers glanced at each other. The women looked hopeful while the man looked a little more skeptical. Finally the darker haired woman spoke up.

"Come on D," she pleaded, "what have we got to lose?"


	36. Chapter 36

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 36

Growing a baby inside her body was hard work. As her pregnancy progressed, Rowan had been sleeping harder and longer. More times than not by the time she rose in the morning, the other members of her household already awake and busy with whatever they had planned for the day. So it was a surprise to the woman when she found herself sitting up wide awake in bed in her still pitch dark bedroom for no immediately obvious reason. She thought she heard someone whisper in her ear. But other than Daryl's softly snorning form and two large sleeping dogs, Rowan's bedroom was absent of other living beings. The whisper she heard must have been part of another one of her strange incoherrent pregnancy dreams.

Knowing that there was no way she was going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon, Rowan slid out of bed as quietly and quickly as she could. Nokake kept a small nightlight on in the hallway. Enough light was shining through the oppressive darkness of the room for Rowan to see Daryl's arm sweeping the bed, searching for her to be sure she was beside him even in sleep. Rowan smiled and turned her pillow longways, pushing it towards the man. By the way he pulled it closer to him Rowan knew he would remain peacefully asleep unless something else woke him.

Rowan slid her hands under the blanket, searching for the colorful robe she had wriggled out of earlier. She found the garment tangled up in the blankets near where her feet had been. Shrugging it on, she pulled it closed and knotted the cloth belt above her protruding stomach. Her daughter turned and moved inside her, filling Rowan's belly with what felt a bit like a fish doing somersaults. She rubbed her hands over her stomach. _Are you hungry little girl? Me too. But what are we hungry for? Little cubes of venison steak smothered in horseradish, sauteed kale with hot sauce and piles of homemade kraut on top. Then a nice glass of pickle juice over ice for dessert._ The thought of drinking pickle juice straight from the jar made her mouth start to water. Rowan lifted her hands to muffle her giggles. She knew some women got strange food cravings when they were pregnant, but since it hadn't happened to her yet she had assumed she wasn't one of them. Apparently she had been wrong.

As Rowan crept from the dark room, Tank stirred from his sleeping place on the foot of her bed and padded silently to the floor to follow her. Rowan ducked into the hall bathroom to relieve herself, something she found herself having to do more and more the further along her pregnancy progressed. Tank nudged the door open a crack, intent on keeping the woman in his line of vision. Rowan wasn't usually up and moving around the house in the middle of the night. Her a-typical behavior already had the large dog on high alert. Or as alert as he could be being that his eyelids were still droopy with sleep.

With her personal business taken care of, Rowan headed down the stairs, avoiding the steps that had a tendency to creak when she stepped on them. The digital clock in the kitchen told her it was only about an hour until sunrise. Rowan wasn't up quite as early as she had originally assumed. Nokake, her father's wife, was usually the one who got up and made breakfast for everyone. The woman liked to cook, but Rowan bet that she still might enjoy a morning off. Her plan to make herself a midnight snack turned into breakfast for everyone in the house. The thought of cooking Daryl breakfast made her happy. She always felt like she was never quite as domestic as a manly man like him deserved.

Rowan didn't consider herself to be much of a cook. She knew how to make cheese and pickle cucumbers. There were a few native american dinners that her paternal grandmother had taught her how to make when she was a little girl. But other than that the limit of her culinary expertise was baking potatoes and stir frying vegetables. That left her with limited options on what to make for breakfast. Opening the fridge, Rowan spotted what looked like a pie crust wrapped in a thin kitchen towel. Next to it was a reusable plastic carton half full of eggs. And a small bowl of tangy goat cheese. All those things added together meant a breakfast quiche. It was a dish Rowan's father favored, so they had it for breakfast at least once a week as long as they had the necessary supplies. Rowan had never made it before but the dish seemed simple enough, especially if she didn't have to make the pie crust. She was hopeless when it came to making anything even related to a pastry.

Rowan was pulling the things she needed from the fridge and setting them on the large wooden cutting board when she heard Tank's low whine drift up from near the back door. She set the cheese and the eggs down. As she moved quickly towards the door the bottom of her robe kicked open, exposing her long freckled legs to the cool morning air. Rowan shivered, making sure to hold her robe closed when she opened the back door to let her dog out. Just as she was slowly easing the door shut, a stray breeze blew in. The broom that was normally kept inside the small kitchen pantry was leaning against the wall near the table. It slid down the wall and clattered to the floor with a loud crack of wood hitting tile. Rowan jumped, startled easily by the loud noise that sounded even louder due to the quiet silence of the early morning hour. A broom falling often meant some sort of company was about to arrive. Rowan rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms and wondered if that was the real reason she had woken so suddenly from her dreams.

The next noise that caught her attention was the sound of the front door being slammed shut. Tank thumped against the outside of the door, his loud warning bark clearly audible through the heavy reinforced wood. As Rowan grabbed for the small knife she had set out on the cutting board in preparation to slice cheese she snorted a little grunt of indignation. What good was a reinforced door if no one ever remembered to lock it? With her eyes adjusted to the dark, Rowan had only turned on the small light above the stove when she entered the kitchen. Because of this she couldn't tell who had barged into her living room in an attempt to escape Tank's barred teeth. She only knew that the silhouette suggested it was a man and that he must be a stranger or her dog wouldn't have chased him in the first place. Rowan adjusted her grip on the small knife in her hand, surprised by her desire to fight instead of running straight out the back door and away from the unexpected threat.

Rowan was brave. But she wasn't stupid. She kept an eye on the shadow near her front door as she moved towards the back door and swung it open to call for Tank. To wish for him was to make the large dog appear. Rowan turned to face the man inside her house, feeling much less vulnerable now that she had a large growling beast at her side.

"Stay close," Rowan commanded the dog, patting her thigh with the hand that wasn't weilding the small pairing knife. She took a few steps forward, one hand resting protectively on the rounded top of her stomach. The man shadow raised his arms, putting his palms facing her. It was the stance of a person that was trying to suggest they were not a threat. Then the man began slowly walking towards her. Whoever he was, he was brave, Rowan would give the man credit for that. Tank's black fur was standing on end, forming a rough mohawk down the line of his spine. A growl rumbled low in his throat and his lips curled up into a menacing snarl.

The man continued. He took one step at a time. His hands still raised in a classic surrender position as he closed the distance between him and Rowan. She slowed her breathing and waited. One more step and the man's face would no longer be masked in shadows. He took that step and Rowan felt herself relax. Not completely. But she stopped holding her knife with a white knuckle grip. Her hand lowered from her stomach to graze over Tank's head, calming him.

"Hi Jesus," Rowan said, her greeting scarcely above a whisper. The man only had the chance to smile back before he was tackled roughly to the ground. Rowan hadn't screamed when the broom fell. And she hadn't screamed when Jesus slipped inside her house. But when her father appeared out of thin air and started pounding the man into the ground she let out a shriek loud enough to wake everyone in the house.

Daryl woke to the sound of Rowan screaming. He bolted out of bed. For a moment he was sure he had been having some sort of terrible nightmare. But then the dogs were up and barking. Downstairs he could hear the sound of a struggle accompanied by Rowan's father's voice. The man was yelling in Sioux. This was never a good sign. The blankets pulled from the bed and tangled around Daryl's ankles. He cursed and almost fell as he attempted to kick them off.

He and Rowan had fallen asleep naked. Something Daryl repeatedly chastised himself for doing and then always did anyway. Her skin felt so good against his. Daryl always told himself he was just going to hold her for another minute before he got up and at least put pants on. Then he would wake up hours later with his naked form still wrapped around hers. Completely unprepared for the disaster or emergency that he was convinced would eventually happen while they slept. And last night had been no exception. Forgetting whatever little modestly he had left, Daryl opted to grab for his crossbow instead of his pants before he sprinted down the hall towards the stairs.

The dogs rushed ahead of him. Lily pounded down the steps and Morgan trailed her. By the time Daryl got halfway down the stairs all three of Rowan's dogs were barking at once. They formed a loose circle around the two men that were struggling on the carpet. Rowan's father was dressed only in the pair of loose grey cotton drawstring pants he wore to bed. His hair was a wild black crown of tangles around his head. He was on top of the man Daryl recognized from earlier that day. Or maybe it had been the day before depending on how long he had been asleep. Either way Grey Wolf was choking the man. Jesus was fighting back but Daryl could see his strength was fading. The old jagged W scar stood out on Rowan's father's head, looking as angry red as the vein that appeared ready to pop from his efforts to subdue the man beneath him. Grey Wolf had a crazed look in his eyes that made Daryl uneasy despite his feelings of closeness and familiarity to the man.

"STOP!," Rowan screamed at her father, still unaware of Daryl's presence on the stairs behind her, "You're going to kill him! STOP!" When her father ignored her loud shouts and continued to choke Jesus, Rowan charged forward and threw a cup of cold water directly into his face. Daryl tossed his bow on the steps behind him and darted around her, using her father's momentary confusion as an opening to get ahold of him. Daryl locked his arms under Grey Wolf's armpits and laced his hands behind the man's head. He staggered back, dragging Rowan's father up and away from the man he had been choking.

"Get you're hands off me!," Rowan's father hollered. He was still thrashing wildly but at least he was screaming in English now, which Daryl decided was a slight improvement. The last thing Daryl had in mind as a fun activity was getting into a wet and mostly naked wrestling match with his father in law. He wished the man would hurry up and calm down so he could let go of him already.

Rowan grabbed for Jesus's hand, pulling the man to his feet before helping him into the kitchen. "Are you alright?," she asked, leaning down to check his color. His hand resting against his rapidly swelling throat but he nodded and waved her off. Rowan turned her attention back to the other two men who were still wrestling and yelling at each other in the living room.

"Calm down!," Daryl hollered. He was struggling to keep the man restrained. Daryl outweighed Rowan's father but the man was still strong and fueled by whatever hellish nightmare flashback that had taken control over his body.

"I AM CALM YOU FUCKING WENDIGO!," Rowan's father screamed back. Along with his angry words, the man's tone implied that behaving in a calm manner was about the furthest possible thing from his mind. If Daryl let him go there was a good chance he was going to go after Jesus again or maybe even turn and try to fight Daryl himself. Rowan crossed the space between them, dodging one of his legs that flung out his attempt to free himself. She pressed her open palm to her father's cheek.

"Até." Her tone was soft and soothing. She hadn't called him by the childhood nickname she had for him in years. At the sound of it, she could see the light come back into her father's eyes.

"Hekaza," the man murmured. Rowan nodded to Daryl that it was alright for him to let go. Her father slumped to the floor and wrapped his arms around her legs. "I thought he was going to hurt you. Mi-chunksi. I swore I would never let anything else bad happen to you."

Rowan felt the tears spring into her eyes. Her hands worked, gently combing and smoothing her father's tangled hair down and away from his face. Rowan loved him in a different light than the way she loved Daryl. But he was still a part of her. She had forgiven the man for everything that had happened out in the beyond. Her father kept her alive the best way he knew how and she harbored no anger or resentment against him for anything that Derek had done to her. But despite her forgiveness, she knew her father lived with the heavy guilt of not only what he had done but all the things he had been unable or unwilling to prevent from happening. She could feel it in the way his hands gripped the fabric of her robe as he rested his forehead against her swollen belly, whispering soft apologies and promises to both Rowan and the child inside her.

Jesus had long since risen from the chair that Rowan had parked him in. He leaned against the doorway that led into the kitchen, stroking his hand over the fur of a white dog that was just as tall an almost as heavy as the huge black beast that he had already become acquainted with. He smiled a little, almost ready to shed a tear himself over the touching family drama that was playing out in front of him. These people were a little crazy but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The group Jesus and his people were up against were crazy too. The difference was these people had heart. Their caring and devotion to each other was obvious.

Jesus cleared his throat, hoping that his voice wasn't totally destroyed by the beating his throat had just taken. He looked at Rowan as he spoke but his words were meant for everyone. Even the pretty woman with the tan skin that was hovering near the top of the stairs with a chubby baby in her arms.

"We need to talk."


	37. Chapter 37

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 37

"I'm going to need to speak to them at some point," Deanna said, leaning closer to Denise and speaking just above a whipser in an attempt not to disturb the small group that was gathered inside the clinic. The older woman leaned past the door frame, trying to get a better look at what was going on inside without being overly obvious about it. Carl and Enid had brought three strangers into town the day before. And since one of them was in need of immediate medical assistance, the interview process that was standard for new arrivals had been overlooked.

The blonde woman was lying on a cot. She didn't look any better than she had when Carl brought her into town lying face down over Comet's saddle. If anything, she looked worse. Her face was pale and covered with a thin layer of persperation that her companions had long since given up on trying to wipe off her face. The pretty darer haired woman that Deanna now knew was her sister was holding the woman's limp hand in one of her own, wiping her tears away with the back of her other hand. The man was maintaining a little more control over his emotions. His shaggy blonde hair was pulled back from his face with a hair tie that Denise had offered him, revealing the dark bruise colored shadows under his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, his hand resting on the crying woman's back. Offering her what little comfort he could given the situation.

"Isn't there anything more we can do?," Deanna asked. Denise shook her head. She already sat up for hours into the night, reading her medical books until her eyes burned when she finally closed them. There was no substitute for insulin. And they didn't have any. Abraham and Heath had cleared all the pharmacies within driving range before last winter. And even if they hadn't, even a full pharmacy wouldn't do the woman any good. Some medications stayed good for years after the expiration date. But insulin wasn't one of them. Extreme cold or warm temperatures caused it to go bad. Even unopened vials went bad after only a month outside a refrigerator. Denise was impressed that the dying woman's family had been able to keep her alive as long as they had.

"She's past the point of hyperglycemia," Denise explained, lowering her voice despite the fact that the people inside the clinic already knew everything she was telling Deanna, "She's gone into diabetic ketoacidosis." Denise took note of the confused look on Deanna's face. It made her smile a little despite the serious nature of their conversation. Deanna was so intelligent and well read. It was unusual to see the woman struggle to understand something. "She's going to die," Denise added, "There's nothing we can do now except make her comfortable."

"Keep an eye on them," Deanna said. The two people inside the clinic seemed harmless enough. And when Rick brought his own new arrival back from the run he had gone on, he had been sure to check the couple for weapons. But it still made Deanna uneasy to leave Denise alone with two strangers. "I can send Spencer over to sit with you," Deana offered, her statment coming out sounding more like a question. Her eldest son still wasn't much of a fighter, despite the training that his new girlfriend's brother was constantly insisting on giving him. But fighter or not he was still twice the size of the man sitting inside the clinic and more than capable of defending Denise if it came to that.

"Tara's here, she's napping upstairs," Denise said, "and Rosita should be here for her shift any minute. I think we're fine here."

Deanna nodded. But as she turned and headed down the steps she decided she might send Spencer over just in case. Deanna still believed in the basic goodness of people. But she was no longer the overly trusting woman she had been when she had taken Rick's group in. All the stories she had heard from him and his people had given her a different understanding of what life was really like outside her high walls.

If that wasn't enough to give her pause, the mystery of who had been spying on Enid and Carl was still unsovled. Rick and Daryl were convinced that it had been someone from town, but Deanna thought that two strangers being found hanging around the outskirts of her town immediately after the incident was just a little too much of a coincidence. Until they knew for sure if they could trust them, these people needed to be watched.

TWD

Rowan listened quietly to everything that Jesus told them. But she didn't look at him. Instead her keen eyes scanned the room to take in the reactions of the people around her that were hearing the information for the first time. Deanna's living room was filled with people that were curious about what the man had to say. The church was the designated spot for town meetings. But most of the actual business of running of Alexandria was done across Deanna's stained coffee table or leaning on the counter tops in Rick's kitchen.

Daryl was firmly wedged in his favorite spot, sitting in the big bay window between the bookcases. Rowan sat between his thighs, leaning back against his chest as she blew at the steam that was rising from the mug of hot tea in her hands. She told Reg and Deanna she was making the tea for herself, but she could tell that Jesus had already guessed the truth. She had actually brewed it to soothe his bruised throat and make it easier for him to speak. After a few careful sips of the steaming beverage the man had glanced over and smiled at her.

"No sewing you need to do?," Michonne whispered as she walked by. She had been sitting on the couch opposite Jesus, taking up her rightful position on the sofa with Rick, Deanna, and Reg. But after only a few moments the woman was forced to vacate the seat her leadership allowed her and tend to her son, who had woken up to find that a horrible injustice was being done to him. He had fallen asleep on his mother's breast and woken up alone in a playpen. The plush bunny that Michonne had placed inside the pen to placate him had only served to anger the child further. So she was forced to listen to Jesus's proposition pacing the room as she tried unsuccessfully to lull her son back to sleep without breastfeeding him.

"Maybe later," Rowan teased. Rick had never quite forgotten the time that Rowan had started knitting during one of his speeches. Anytime he got ready to say something he felt was important, he would always cast a pointed glance at Rowan first to make sure the woman was paying attention to him. It had become a sort of running joke between her and Michonne.

"Just sit down and feed him," Rowan added, nodding towards Michonne's son, "no one cares." Rowan scooted back and swung her legs down, making room on the window sill for Michonne to join them. She had grown up in a community where it was completely normal to see women breastfeeding their babies. Rowan understood now that not everyone felt as comfortable with it as she did. But this was important. She didn't think Michonne should feel obligated to leave the room and miss what was being said just because her son was hungry.

Rowan's father had been leaning against the bookcase behind Daryl. The man crossed the small space and took up a watchful position in front of Michonne, partially blocking her body from prying eyes but leaving her enough room to see what was going on. Most people in town were used to him by now, facial scars and all. But Grey Wolf still had an intimidating presence. Rowan smiled, knowing that no one would even dare to look funny at Michonne as long as her father was standing next to the woman.

Deanna and Rick each asked Jesus a few more questions. Rick was a little more skeptical while Deanna seemed more excited about what he had to say. But it was obvious that neither of them had an objection to the idea of trading with another group. It had been a little rocky between the two leaders at first, with Deanna not wanting to let go of her position and Rick feeling like he was right and she ought to be listening to him. But eventually they had worked out the differences in their leadership styles. It put everyone in town at ease to view them as a united front. Deanna had gotten more and more comfortable letting Rick handle anything that qualified as a security concern, while Rick was now able to back down and let Deanna handle the day to day running of the town even if she wasn't running things the way he felt they ought to be run.

Once it was decided that a small group was going to be accompanying Jesus back to his home, the only thing left to decide was who was going to be included in the group. Rick and Deanna were going. Michonne and Rich were staying as the defacto leaders. Rowan could tell her father wanted to go, but at Michonne's request he agreed to stay and help her keep watch over Alexandria.

"Maybe my crazy face wouldn't make the best impression," the man quipped, pulling Rowan against his chest to hug her goodbye. She giggled, suddenly understanding that Michonne's request for the man to help her had been a bit of a rouse. Deanna, and maybe even Rick too, didn't want her father going because they were afraid he would scare the people they were trying to set up trading with. Rowan squeezed him back, suddenly wishing that she was staying home with her father instead of going along. She couldn't put her finger on the exact reason why but she had a sinking feeling down in the pit of her stomach. Rowan didn't think Jesus was tricking them. And she didn't think the trading was a bad idea. On the contrary she felt like it was a wonderful idea. The community she had been a part of before the turn had traded regularly with other communities. It had always been a positive experience for her. But she still couldn't shake the odd feeling of foreboding she had. Or the chicken flesh that was bubbling over the freckled skin of her arms despite the warmth of the morning sun.

"I love your crazy face," Rowan whispered to her father, speaking to him in Sioux since she knew he preferred it.

"Be safe," her father told her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. As they parted, his hand grazed over her belly throught the loose fabric of her dress. To her surprise, Rowan's father also had a hug for Daryl. She was happy to see that unlike Daryl's normal stiff and awkward man to man hugs that he actually wrapped his arms around her father and hugged the man back for once, relieved that there was no ill will between them over the physical altercation they had early that morning.

Just as the small group was about to climb inside the RV, a loud shout for them to wait sounded from down the street. Eugene was rushing towards them. The man was actually running for once, which accounted for how red his face was. He had Olivia by the hand, hauling the already embarrassed looking woman along behind him.

"Something wrong?," Deanna asked, her voice filled with concern. Eugene opened his mouth and started babbling. Rowan wasn't sure what point he was trying to make, something about bullets and trading and the percentages of a positive outcome to the trading negotiations. Rowan could tell from the look on Deanna's face that she was equally as confused. Olivia finally elbowed Eugene in the ribs, intending to quiet him down so she could speak. When she did she directed her question to Jesus.

"There's an Ob-Gyn in your community?," she asked in an attempt to confirm what Eugene had told her. Jesus nodded at her, a smile spreading across his face. Olivia turned to Deanna. "Would it be alright if we went along then?"

It took a few moments for the information to penetrate the minds of everyone around. There was only one reason why anyone would want to see that type of doctor. Olivia must be pregnant. Rowan had noticed some subtle differences in the woman's general aura lately, but she had written it off as just part of the general constant stress and pressure of life they were all under. She was the first to rush forward and wrap her arms around Olivia's neck.

The two women hugged each other tightly. Olivia's two younger sisters had gotten married within a year of each other. Then they got pregnant around the same time. It gave them a special bond. One that Olivia had never shared with anyone before. She was full of joy not only to be in love and be pregnant, two things she never thought possible, but also to share the experience with Rowan.

"Of course you can come," Deanna told the couple. Deanna did her best to remain calm and composed but Rowan saw the woman wipe at the corners of her eyes when she thought no one was looking. Everyone who knew Deanna well, knew how she felt about pregnancies and babies. They represented hope for the future. They would be the first generation that would be born into the community that she helped to build. Once Rowan backed away, the other women crowded in to hug and fawn over Olivia. The men teased Eugene and Abraham smacked him on his back and roughed up the long part of his hair. The small celebration might have gone on for some time but Rick cleared his throat loudly and reminded them that they had a long drive ahead of them. One he didn't want to make in the dark.


	38. Chapter 38

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 38

Olivia scooted down in her seat and leaned back. Lifting her legs, she rested her feet on Tank's back, using the large animal as a footrest. She was enjoying the attention that Rowan was giving her, but she drew the line when the woman attempted to pull her shirt up and run her fingers over her bare stomach in front of everyone. Later, when they were alone, Olivia wouldn't mind. But she was still self concious of her naturally thick waisted body type. It made her appear overweight when she really wasn't much larger than anyone else.

Rowan scooted closer, her tattooed hand hovering over Olivia's stomach. A sewing needle dangled from a thread that was pinched between her slender fingers. The thread was bright red and the light from the partially shaded windows glinted off the reflective surface of the needle, making it appear to sparkle.

"If it moves back and forth, then the baby is a boy," Rowan explained, "and if it moves in a circle, then the baby is a girl."

Eugene cocked his head to the side in order to get a better look at the thin red string. He didn't believe in the scientific accuracy of Rowan's test but he found he was enjoying the game despite his doubts. Olivia had been certain of her pregnancy for several months now. They had kept it a secret, not because they were worried about people's reactions, but because Olivia was afraid and unsure if she would be able to carry a baby to term. She was very vague on the exact reasons for her fears, only citing that she had an accident many years ago that she was afraid might have damaged her in some way. A chance to see a doctor that might possibly be able to alleviate some of her worries seemed too great an opportunity to pass up. So they had been forced to finally make their announcement public. Seeing how happy Olivia was to finally have friends and loved ones to share in her joy made Eugene wish they had told people about her condition weeks ago.

"Blow on it," Rowan suggested. Olivia hunched forward, forcing her body into a very uncomfortable position that she was sure gave her at least one more extra chin than normal. She pursed her lips and blew on the needle. It swung around wildly for a few seconds. Then slowly the needle's movements began to take shape. It swung this way and that, until finally it was rotating above Olivia's stomach in a perfectly symmetrical circle.

"It's a girl!," Rowan sang. She gathered the needle and string up, barely giving Olivia time to sit back up before she was wrapping her arms around the woman for at least the tenth time since they climbed into the RV together. Rowan pulled a small piece of cork from her bag and stuck it onto the pointy end of the needle. Then she wrapped it in a colorful bit of cloth and handed it to Olivia. "Save this and use it when you sew your daughter's receiving blanket," she instructed, "It will bring her good fortune in love and life."

"Oh Roe," Olivia gushed. Her hormones were starting to get the better of her. Tears were welling up in her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hand before they could spill out over her cheeks. "I don't even know how to sew," Olivia admitted. Eugene wrapped his arm around her shoulders as her reached to take the small bundle from her hands.

"I know how," he said. After his admission earned him several curious glances from the men in the RV Eugene explained that he used to visit his aging grandparents in the summers. His gran had taught him how to sew and his Pop had taught him how to fix things.

During this endearing exchange, Rowan found herself glancing towards Jesus to see what his reaction would be. Except for the directions he was giving Rick and Abraham, the man had been quietly observing them for most of the ride. He now wore a soft smile on his face. Rowan could tell from the change in his body posture that whatever questions Jesus had been mulling over in his mind had now been answered. He trusted them now. The aura around him was calm and still, the colors melting into each other until they formed a softly swirling bubble of contentment. Then suddenly the man was on his feet.

"STOP!," Jesus hollered. Smoke was coming from a vehicle on the side of the road. It appeared to have been involved in a recent crash. "I know that truck," he added, "those are my people."

Abraham pulled the RV over onto the side of the road. There was a small building nearby. Half a dozen walkers were pawing at the front door of it, trying to get in. This left little doubt as to where the passengers of the crashed car had gone. Jesus hurried down from the RV with Rick close behind him. Before the man could dart away again, Rick grabbed him by the sleeve of his leather coat.

"This better not be another trick," Rick warned the man. Jesus shook his head.

Deanna shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She was alone inside the RV. Everyone else had climbed down to investigate the crash and decide on whether or not to lend aid to the people Jesus was insisting must be trapped inside the small building. When she left Alexandria, she had been prepared to lead possible trade negotiations. Not to fight undead cannibals on the side of the road. It had been a long time since Deanna had been outside the high walls of her town. And even longer since she had been this far from home. She was afraid to even set foot down outside the RV and it made her feel instantly ashamed of herself. Deanna had never intended to become the sort of leader that always left the dirty work to others.

An increase in the volume of the argument outside finally propelled her from the large vehicle. The moment she felt the crunch of the uneven gravel under her feet a walker was already coming at her, drawn away from the building by the loud voices in front of the RV. Deanna shrieked and started fumbling for the gun at her waist. The walker only got the chance to take one more step towards her before a tiny stone whipped through the air and hit it right between the eyes. It slumped to the ground in front of her.

Deanna breathed a sigh of relief, glancing to the direction the stone had come from to see Rowan poised with her slingshot in her hands. Her hair hung loose down her back, the feathers she had twined into the thin braided sections ruffled up in the slight breeze of the day. A thin beaded headband stretched across her forehead. It matched the beaded sheath of the knife she wore on her belt. The young woman's dedication to her belief that one didn't have to give up all personal style in order to be well prepared for the apocolypse always made Deanna smile. She was eager to reach for Rowan's hand when the young woman approached and held it out for Deanna to take.

"They're scarier up close, aren't they?," Rowan asked. Deanna bobbed her head. The closest she had been to a walker was watching people shoot at them from on top of her high walls. Being close enough to see the milky dead whites of that one's eyes had been more unsettling than she would have imagined. "Just stay close to me and Tank," Rowan suggested. Deanna nodded again. Being close to the large black beast made her feel more secure. The dog seemed more concerned with watching the ongoing argument that Daryl was involved in than he was in her, but he leaned in a little closer and allowed Deanna to scratch him beind his ears.

"Just hurry up and help them!," Jesus insisted. He reluctantly allowed Rick to handcuff him. Then Olivia, Deanna, and Rowan were instructed to watch Jesus while the rest of the small group went inside to help his friends. Olivia pointed her gun in his general direction, her face getting paler as she watched Eugene enter the building with the rest of the men.

"Abe's been training him," Rowan reminded her, "He'll be okay." Tank paced back and forth before letting out a loud whine. "Go on and help Daryl then," Rowan told the large dog. She whistled and pointed towards the building. Usually Tank liked to stay with her. But he hated when any of the members of what he considered to be his pack were out of his sight and in possible danger. Rowan also guessed their were more dead inside the building. Tank could probably smell them. At her signal the dog tore off in the direction Daryl had gone, kicking up a shower of road dust and gravel behind him.

Deanna had been entrusted with the keys to the handcuffs Rick put on Jesus. Rowan held her hand out for them. Deanna handed them over to the woman, assuming she planned to tuck them away somewhere safe. To her surprise, Rowan stepped right over and released their prisoner from his bonds. And not only that. When she was done taking the cuffs off Jesus she hurled them and the keys right away into a large section of bushes, throwing them as far away as she could.

"Rowan!," Deanna exclaimed, "I can't believe you just did that!"

Olivia started laughing. Nothing Rowan did surprised her anymore. Though even she had to admit she hadn't been expecting that particular move. Rick was going to give birth to a small bovine animal right there in the road when he found out Rowan tossed away his last good pair of handcuffs.

"He can't just go around shackling people like animals," Rowan argued, "That's not what we do." The encounter she and Daryl had with the women that had taken him prisoner was still fresh in her mind. She didn't like the idea of Jesus being held against his will. Especially when he hadn't done anything to hurt them. And it had been obvious to her that his concern over the members of his group was sincere. Either that or he was the most talented actor she had ever seen.

"Thanks," Jesus told Rowan. He was smiling at her again as he rubbed the feeling back into his wrists and hands. She smiled back. A few moments later Abraham and Eugene exited the building with an injured man propped up between them. Daryl and Rick were herding a few more scragglers towards the RV. Tank stayed close to Daryl's side until Rowan was visible again. Then he ran back to the woman, eager for her affection. Rowan gave him a quick pet before she signalled the dog up into the RV ahead of her.

TWD

Rowan was more concerned with the injured man Abraham and Eugene had helped out of the building than she was with introducing herself to the other members of the small group. The man had a nasty gash on his leg that had been tied off using too much pressure and with a dirty bandage. Her full pharmacopeia of herbal medicine was back at her house with her mother's book of herbal remedies. But she had gotten into the habit of taking a small stock of emergency supplies with her.

"What are you doing?," the man questioned nervously. Rowan was already pulling gently at the dirty rags tied around his calf, trying to see how badly he was cut.

"Helping you," Jesus assured the man. Rowan had no idea that one of the strangers her people had rescued from the building was a doctor. And Jesus didn't want her to know. He wanted Carson to get the chance to evaluate her healing skills, which were judged as more or less valuable depending on who's opinion you asked for. From what he had overheard already, some people seemed to honestly believe that she possesed some sort of magic powers while others thought she was nothing more than a simple minded hippie with a strong love for animals.

Rowan cleaned and stitched the man's leg where the tear in the flesh was the worst. She smothered his wound in a mixture of healing herbs and honey before wrapping it back up in clean bandages. When she was done she sat with the man a while holding one of his hands between hers. Rowan promised him once they got him home she was going to leave him a tea blend that would ease the pain and help him heal faster. The man seemed leery of her help at first, but her gentle and caring presence quickly put him at ease. He was quick to thank her for her help, especially since she didn't demand anything in return for her services.

"Were you a nurse?," a taller man asked. Daryl had stayed back while Rowan helped the stranger with his leg. But he watched the man and his companions. And while the tall man had been quiet, Daryl noticed that he had been watching Rowan with more than a casual interest. Daryl was relieved to hear that the man had only been concerned with finding out what sort of medical skills she posessed.

"No," Rowan answered with a small shake of her head. She left the injured man with a soft pat on the back before moving to take the seat between Daryl and Jesus. Daryl wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. "My mother was a wich-asa wakhan," Rowan informed the man with a heavy accent and a wink before she translated her words for him. "A witch." There was a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Daryl could tell she was having a bit of fun with the man, teasing him a little to see what his reaction to her might be.

"Rowan's our resident herbalist," Deanna explained. Rowan knew more about plants and herbs than anyone Deanna ever met. She didn't know why the young woman insisted on down playing her knowledge and abilites. More and more, people in Alexandria were starting to see Rowan for their minor medical problems instead of going to the actual medical center. Part of it was that she did posess actual knowledge and skills. But the other factor was her bedside manner. People swore that just having Rowan lay her hands on them rid them of headaches and other minor ailments. She was a natural healer. Deanna was sure of it, no matter what Rowan said about her mother and how much more skilled the woman had been in comparison to her.

Unlike manufactured drugs, Rowan's remedies were made of things they could plant and grow more of. Deanna wasn't sure what would be useful as leverage in these and future trade negotiation, but she thought recipies and the seeds needed to grow plants for herbal remedies might be something of high demand one day.

"We were out on a run gathering medical supplies," the man explained, tapping his fingers on the box in his hands. "You all saved more lives today than just ours. We owe you a debt."

"This is Doctor Carson," Jesus added, "the obstetrician I told you about."

"Got any prenatal vitamins in that box?," Eugene asked. The man poked through the box and selected a large orange bottle. He handed it to Olivia. Then he produced another bottle that he held out for Rowan to take. Carson hadn't been totally sure while he was watching her work. The loose fitting dress she was wearing disguised her figure. But once the slender woman sat down her dress had pulled tight against the swell of her stomach. Witch or not, she was pregnant. At least five months along if he had to make a guess.

Rowan took the bottle, wrinkling up her nose as she turned it around in her hands. It took her a few hard twists to get the child safety cap off. And once she did she immediately regretted it. This man was either crazy or he was trying to make her sick. Because the stench that was coming out of that bottle of horsepills almost made her breakfast come back up. She wasn't sure if they had gone bad or if the pills were suppposed to smell that way, but either way she wasn't going to take them. Tank had also leaned in, taking a suspicious sniff of whatever the stranger had handed his mistress. The dog snorted and jerked his head back.

"Olivia can have mine," Rowan offered, handing her pills down to the other woman, "I'll stick to eating kale." Several people laughed. The doctor that had given her the pills scratched his nose in an obvious attempt to hide a smile. He had often wondered how pregnant woman managed to choke down the prenatal vitamins he prescribed them. They smelled like dirty feet and were at least twice the size of anything he would want to attempt to swallow.

"If you'd like to know the sex of the baby I have an ultrasound machine back in my office," he offered. Daryl was quick to nod his head. He liked feeling the baby when it moved around inside Rowan's belly and he actually seeing it was an appealing concept. Rowan shrugged, feeling a little more ambivalent about the offer. She was already sure she was having a girl. And she could tell from the way her pregnancy was progressing that her daughter was growing healthy and strong. There was no need for futher tests. The only reason Rowan didn't decline the man's offer was because of the look in Daryl's eyes. If he wanted confirmation of what she already knew, then she wasn't going to deny it to him.

"That would be very nice," Rowan lied, "Thank you."

The day was long from being over. But Rowan already felt her eyelids getting heavy. She nuzzled in closer to Daryl and rested her head on his shoulder. The rocking motion of the road had lulled her unborn baby to sleep for most of the morning. But the excitement and more jerky motions of climing in and out of the RV had woken her. Rowan rested her hand on her belly, feeling the little flutters of movement inside. She made sure to pretend she was fully asleep when she overheard Rick asking what happened to his handcuffs.

 ****Big thanks to anyone that left a review. I get more requests for this story than any of my others, so I'm going to do my best to get some more new chapters out soon. ****


	39. Chapter 39

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 39

Enid pulled at the strap on Comet's saddle, making sure it was resting securely across the sturdy animal's back. She wasn't sure why she was nervous to leave the safety of the walls. Going out into the world had never bothered or scared her before. And both Rowan's father and Michonne had said it was alright for them to make the short ride they had planned. But with Carl's dad and Deanna both gone, Enid felt like it was the wrong time for them to be going anywhere. She also didn't like being responsible for the personal safety of the only doctor in town.

"Are you sure you can't just write down the things that might be useful?," Enid asked the woman again. Or better yet just write down directions to the place and they could take Rowan with them when she got back from visiting Jesus's community. Rowan knew as much if not more about herbal medications as Denise did. She would know what items from an apothecary would be useful and what could be left behind. And Enid wouldn't have to babysit Rowan like she was going to have to do with Denise. Going out with Rowan and Daryl was fun.

"I've been practicing," Denise insisted, "I can do this." She felt more than a little bit silly pleading her case to a couple of teenagers. Which was the exact reason why she needed to do this. Denise had been hiding behind Alexandria's high walls since the very beginning of the outbreak. She had never even seen a walker up close. And certainly never killed one. This didn't lend to her credibility as a contributing member of the community. She was tired of everyone treating her like she was weak.

"Hey!," Tara called out, "Wait!" She was slinging a mostly empty bag up onto her back as she hurried down the sidewalk towards them.

"Don't you have to stay and watch our guests in the medical center?," Carl asked the woman. Deanna had been adamant that the newcomers he had brought into town be watched until she had a chance to formally interview them. Because one of them was sick to the point of dying, the other two hadn't been interrogated yet. The couple seemed harmless enough, but Deanna still had no idea who they were or where they were from. Carl knew his dad thought the only way they could have kept that diabetic woman alive this long was if they were with a much larger group. And they had been picked up on foot, so the group would have had to be somewhere within a few days walk. This didn't automatically mean Dwight and Sherry were not to be trusted. It just meant they needed to be watched a little more closely than the stragglers and wanderers Aaron brought in off the road.

Tara shook her head. "Jessie said she would sit with them," she explained, "and Spencer said he would check in on them too."

Enid and Carl watched as a slight disagreement developed between Denise and Tara. Denise felt like the other woman was only coming along to babysit her. Tara attempted to deny this accusation even though it was obvious that's exactly what was going on. Enid wrapped her arm around Carl's waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She felt like the worst person ever, but honestly she was less worried about why Tara was going than she was about whether or not Comet was going to have a hard time carrying both women on his back.

"If we are going, let's go," Carl urged. Molly was already saddled up and the horse was ready to move. If they made her wait around too much longer she was going to start acting more ornery than she already was. At Carl's urgings, the two women managed to come to some sort of truce. They hugged each other. Denise turned towards the horse and pulled herself up into the saddle without any difficulty. But climbing up behind another person was a little more tricky. Carl had to lace his fingers and give Tara a leg up. She got herself up behind Denise, but she was sitting awkwardly on the large horse, squeezing in too much with her legs. When the animal reacted to the pressure by taking a few quick steps, Tara gasped and grabbed Denise tighter around the waist.

"Is this a bad time to mention I've never ridden a horse before?," Tara asked. Denise and Carl laughed. Enid sighed and shook her head before pulling herself up onto Molly's back. She leaned forward, giving Carl enough room to climb up behind her. Once he had his arms wrapped securely around her waist, Enid leaned back and whispered into his ear.

"This is going to be a real shit show."

Carl laughed some more, snagging his hat off her head. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and used the hat to hold it in place. His hair was really getting out of control. The only reason he hadn't hacked it off already was because he liked the way Enid would comb through it with her fingers when they laid in bed together. He was starting to wonder how silly he would look if he let Rowan braid it back away from his face like she did for her father.

"It's not far," Carl reminded her, "and that area's already been cleared." Enid nodded. Carl's arms were around her waist, one hand already sliding under the hem of her shirt. His thumb dipped down, rubbing a slow circle around her hipbone just under the waistband of her pants. She grapsed his hand and removed it from inside her clothing, placing it firmly on the outside of her shirt. They were going on a run. With other people. People that were less experienced than them at not only fighting, but horse riding as well. They weren't going out to the lake to fool around. Enid needed to concentrate.

"You're no fun at all," he teased. Carl ducked in to nibble at the side of her neck, bonking her in the head with the brim of his hat in the process. Enid jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Quit playin' around," she ordered, trying to sound serious even though she was trying not to laugh.

Molly didn't care for the jerky movements that were taking place on her back. The horse reared up slightly lifting both her front hooves off the ground at once before slamming them back down onto the concrete and snorting. Enid knew that meant it was time to go. She clicked her tounge at the horse and started her walking towards the front gate.

Aaron pulled the gate open, giving them a wave as they passed through. A stray walker was shuffling along the side of the road, but it fell to the ground before it even had a chance to get close to them. Enid turned at waved at Spencer. He was perched on the lookout post with the slingshot he had been using to take out the stray walkers instead of wasting bullets. She wished he was coming with them instead of Denise.

"We need toilet paper," he called after them, "and wine!"

"If we find any wine," Tara yelled back, "I'm not giving it away." This made everyone laugh, including Enid.

They made it all the way to the first major cross road without any problems. Aside from the one Spencer had taken down, the only walker they even saw so far was the top half of a torso that was dragging itself along the edge of the road away from it's lower half. Enid figured someone must have run it over. Probably Abraham. He liked to run the really rotten ones over sometimes, to see how much nasty gunk would splash up onto the windshield. It only took one time of riding shotgun with him in the driver's seat before you learned to keep the window rolled up.

Enid started to steer her horse towards the direction they had plotted out on the map together before they left. But Denise signalled for her to wait. Tara held onto Comet's reigns, her grip overly tight, while Denise unfolded the large worn out section of the paper map.

"Those tracks we crossed," she said, pointing back a few yard behind them, "I think if we follow them they will pop us out right near the strip mall we are trying to get to. It would cut the distance to get there almost in half."

"You think or you know?," Enid asked. Denise hesitated, looking over the map for what felt like the millionth time that day. It was easy to tell she hadn't been outside the walls in a long time. Most people at least knew their way around the area that directly surrounded Alexandria.

"The plaza is northeast of here," Carl added, "and these tracks lead east." Enid laid her hand over one of Carl's larger hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. Carl had an amazing sense of direction. And he had picked up more tricks from Daryl during their time alone with him and Rowan. Enid always had to rely on landmarks. North, South, East and West just confused her more. Carl could tell by looking at a mossy tree which way they were going. She was grateful to him for always being the one to guide them home. If he agreed with Denise, that was good enough for Enid. Her only hesitation was that they knew the road was clear. And being on it gave them more visibility. Walkers or people would be able to get a lot closer to them without them knowing it if they took the tracks.

TWD

"See!," Denise called out, "There it is!"

Enid held her finger up to her lips, signalling the other woman to keep quiet. She knew Denise was just excited that they had found the place so easily. But they usually tried to avoid screaming and hollering unless it was absolutely necessary. Extra noise always invited extra trouble.

"Sorry," Denise said, mouthing the words this time instead of screaming them.

Tara was the first to swing down from Comet's back. She was so eager to get her feet on the ground she let go of the saddle too quickly and ended up with her face in the dirt. Tara climbed back onto her feet and started towards a walker that had been attracted to their location because Denise was talking too loud. There was only one coming so Tara kicked it's knee out and pinned it to the ground with her boot planted down in the middle of it's back.

"Get down her Denise," she hissed at the other woman, "This one's for you."

Since it seemed like a good time to dismount, Carl swung down from Molly's back much more gracefully than Tara had. He landed softly on his feet before turning to help Enid down. They both knew she didn't need the help, it was just an excuse for them to get close to each other.

Denise climbed down and Carl moved quickly, taking Comet's reigns from her hands. She wiped her palms on the thighs of her jeans and took her knife out. Carl could tell her hands were shaking but he tried to pretend he didn't notice. She seemed very nervous for someone who was only being asked to kill a walker that someone else had already taken down. Carl hoped one never got on top of her. If that happened, her fear and panic would get her killed.

Adjusting her grip on the knife in her hands, Denise edged closer to the walker. Tara nodded her encouragment. Denise crouched down. She held up her knife, ready to plunge it into the monster's skull. It felt like she hesitated forever with her arm in the air. Finally she brought it down into the base of the skull, killing the brain. The moaning stoppped and the dead man finally lay still. Then Denise turned her head and vomitted up her breakfast.

"Rowan says we are releasing them from their pain and sending them on to a better place," Enid told the woman, trying to be helpful. She didn't personally believe that. But it sounded nice. It felt like the right thing to say. Denise gave her a grateful smile after she got done wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

They found the apothecary store Denise was looking for. The door was covered in walker gunk and old dried bloody handprints. Which meant someone had taken refuge inside the store at some point. How old and dried up the prints looked meant it had probably been a long time ago. Whoever it was had either run away or died inside. Enid knelt down and attempted to pick the lock on the door. When that didn't work Carl popped it open with a crowbar. The bar was metal and sort of heavy to carry around. But it doubled as a weapon and could get them into almost anywhere.

Enid had been right about her theory that someone had hidden in the store. Unfortunately, it smelled like that someone had also died inside the store. The air was thick with the smell of rot. Carl banged his crowbar against the door a few times, making a loud enough racket that anything still partially alive inside would be drawn to the noise.

"Should we bring the horses inside with us?," Tara asked. Enid shook her head. The horses would freak out if they tried to force them through the narrow doorway of the shop. Comet would come to the whistle they had for him. And Molly would stay with Comet. The horses were best left outside to their own devices. They were well practiced in stomping any walkers that got close enough to make a grab for them. Carl glanced at Enid, making sure the girl had her flashlight out and ready. He held the crowbar up and readied himself. Then he stepped inside the store.


	40. Chapter 40

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 40

 **** Big thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. I was a little disappointed with the way Hilltop looked on the show. For a farming community I didn't see much farming going on. So while I'm leaving the main area of the town the way it was, I will be embellishing and changing some of the details. ****

Daryl nudged her awake. Rowan could feel the excitement in his voice when he whispered to her. _Wake up and look_. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, unsure if she had only been asleep for a few minutes or several hours. The first thing she noticed was that almost everyone inside the RV had their bodies turned so they could stare out the windows.

The last few rows of an immpressive corn field whipped past, some stalks so close that they brushed against the sides of the RV as Abraham angled it down the narrow gravel drive. The area around them opened up, revealing a large and carefully placed pasture. The massive cornfields were being used as natural camoflauge. Hidden inside them were several large herds of cattle. Rowan darted across the middle of the RV, stepping over Tank and squeezing in next to Deanna so she could get a better look.

"Look at all the baby cows," Deanna remarked, pointing out the window with the excitement of a child. Rowan giggled, not bothering to inform the woman that the smallish black cows she was pointing at were not babies at all. They were Dexter cattle, the same type that she used to help care for back in her community. Dexter cows were smaller than a normal cow but not quite minature. The breed was good for smaller scale farming because they ate less and took up less space than a standard cow but produced just as much milk. Rowan preferred them because they were more gentle and easy to handle than the big longhorns. Seeing them was comforting, like coming home again.

Mixed in with the Dexters, Rowan also saw a few more standard varieties of cattle. There were plenty of black and red angus cows that she guessed were being raised for meat. A large group of black and white holsteins hovered near the edge of a pasture. Those were milking cows. There were also some cattle scattered throughout the group with odd colorations. Rowan guessed they were either crossbreeds or random stragglers from other herds that had been scattered or destroyed.

"Over there," Rowan urged, pointing with her finger so Deanna knew where to look. A small group of horses was also grazing in the field. The patriarch of the little family was a large and impressive midnight black stallion. He snorted and tossed his head, pawing at the dirt when he saw the unfamiliar vehicle approaching. "We should bring Molly here," Rowan whispered. Despite the terror of the situation when it happened, Rowan had been hoping the time Molly had spent with the wild herd had gotten her with foal. But so far there had been no luck. As gas and oil became a thing of memory, horses were going to increase in value. Rowan knew that Deanna hoped to have a whole herd of them in Alexandria by that time.

"I don't see any goats," Deanna whispered, trying to keep what she was saying between her and Rowan until she was sure on what negotians she wanted to make, "do we have enough that we might be able to trade for some cows?" Rowan nodded. She would hate to see any of her animals go. They were all like family to her. Even the ones that liked to chase her around and try to headbutt her. But Alexandria's small herd of goats had almost tripled in size over the last year. They could afford to split the herd if it meant getting some milking cows.

"We should see if they want to trade seeds," Rowan whispered back, "we can give them anything they don't have and maybe get some new ones to grow back home." Deanna nodded again. She sat back and stared at the young woman that was waving out the window at the horses she had spotted. Rowan had her place in the community. She took care of the animals and helped in the gardens. More and more her home was starting to be viewed as an alternative to the medical center. But Deanna had never considered Rowan for a leadership role in the community. She intended to have Rick aid her in her negotiations with the leader of this community. Now Deanna was wondering if Rowan might be a better choice. The woman had a calming presence and she could be very persuasive when she wanted something. But most of all Rowan had just mentioned several things that Deanna wouldn't have thought to ask for.

Abraham slammed the brakes, letting out a string of curses so foul that Deanna cringed. People grabbed for anything they could to keep themselves from being tossed into the person next to them. The man cursed some more and began honking the horn of the RV. Rowan could hear Jesus laughing. As most people were doing, she leaned forward and tried to see what was blocking the path of the large vehicle. When she saw why they had stopped Rowan started to laugh. Several large black and white cows had wandered into the path of the RV. One of them had decided he liked the spot and settled in for a good nap.

"I guess we walk from here," Rick announced.

TWD

Rowan roamed around the large room, pretending to be more interested in the fancy useless collection of items that packed every available surface than she was in observing the man that Deanna was planning to start negotiations with. His name was Gregory. He reminded Rowan of a mallard duck during mating season, walking around with his chest puffed out. She could already tell that the man's confidence was just a show he was putting on for them. His aura slicked back from his head like the fur on a wet dog. He was afraid. So afraid that Rowan could almost smell it. The fear and false bravado rolled off Gregory in waves like the musk that skunks let off when they got angry or frightened. But that didn't stop the coward from ignoring Deanna's polite attempt to introduce herself in order to stare down the front of Rowan's red dress.

"Diane," he said, finally moving to shake Deanna's outstretched hand, "nice to have you here."

"It's Deanna," she corrected. Her tone was even and polite. But Rowan could tell from the other woman's body language that she didn't like the man she was dealing with. Not only was he being rude now, but he had already interrupted Rick and insinuated that everyone in their group was dirty and needed a bath. Rowan wished she hadn't agreed to leave Tank with Daryl. Because it would have given her an excuse to back away from the man when he stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"Rowan," she corrected before the man even had a chance to get her name wrong on purpose. She forced herself to place her slender hand in his meaty clammy paw. He held on longer than she would have liked, twisting her hand around in his so that he could look at her tattoos. His hands were soft. Not the sort of hands Rowan would have expected from the leader of a farming community. Even Deanna's hands were calloused from pulling weeds and shoveling compost. And she was older and much more frail than this pompous peacock of a man. Not only that but everything in his body language screamed out that he was being dishonest. The man was hiding something. Something serious. Rowan was sure of it.

"Rowan," the man repeated. Gregory finally loosened his grip enough that she was able to take her hand back. After touching him, Rowan felt like she actually needed the washing he had insisted upon before. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you," Rowan said, forcing the words out. The man gave her a weasley smile before waving her and Deanna over to a couch that he intended for them to sit on. As they moved towards the seating area, Gregory escorted Rowan towards the couch with his hand on her back. Her lower back. Rowan was sure she felt his hand graze the top of her ass when she turned to sit down and she was certain it wasn't by accident.

Deanna forced herself to keep her face neutral. This was harder than it normally would be since Rowan lacked any form of poker face at all and was now looking at the leader of the Hilltop like he was worse than a flea on one of her dogs. If this buffoon had any idea who Rowan's husband and father were, he would need a change of underpants. Both men were not only equally intimidating, they were both intensely protective over Rowan. Deanna was starting to wonder if leaving Rowan's father back in Alexandria had been a mistake. No doubt his negotiation style would be very different from her own. But maybe blatant intimidation was what would work best in this scenario. Deanna took a deep breath and reminded herself that she didn't have to like Gregory. They only had to work together for the mutual benefit of both their communities.

"I'd like to start..." Deanna only got the first few words out before Gregory cut her off like he had done to Rick out in the foyer of the grand house he claimed as his own.

"Jesus told me your people don't have enough food stored up to last the winter," he announced. Deanna didn't confirm or deny this. But now she knew why Gregory had insisted on having her 'wash up' before he spoke to her. He had wanted a chance to drill Jesus for information about them before he started.

"We have other resources," Deanna countered. She already knew these people were out of bullets. And had been for quite some time. They were also low enough on medication to send their only doctor out on a run without a proper weapon to get more. They might have more than enough food. But a full belly didn't do a person much good if they were dead.

"When people get hungry, things fall apart in a hurry," Gregory asserted, puffing his chest out like a bird again. "Let's not play games here," he added, "you and your people don't have shit or you wouldn't be here."

"Wendigo." Rowan hissed the slur under her breath, but Deanna was sitting close enough to the younger woman that she heard it. Whenever Rowan or any of her former pack started talking in Sioux, it was never a good sign. Deanna had heard the slur spoken before, but never from Rowan's lips. It shocked her. Rowan never had an unkind word for anyone. She was usually kind to others even when they didn't deserve it.

"We need each other," Deanna corrected. "No one can make it alone anymore. Not you. Not Hilltop. And not us either. I'm sure we can come to an agreement that would be beneficial for both our communities."

Rowan smiled. She was always impressed with Deanna. The woman was intelligent and kind. She cared about the people of Alexandria like they were her own children. But even Rowan was in awe of how calm and collected the woman was able to remain even after this man had insulted her. Rowan had been ready to spit in his wormy little face.

"Maybe it would be best if we left you to think it over a while," Deanna suggested. The woman stood. Rowan didn't need much encouragement. As soon as it looked like Deanna was ready to go, she couldn't get away from Gregory fast enough.

As they exited the room, Deanna grapsed Rowan's elbow and pulled the woman close enough that she could speak to her without being heard by anyone else. "It might be best not to mention to Daryl that Gregory was coming on to you," Deanna whispered, "or this will be over before it gets started." Rowan nodded. She wouldn't stay quiet forever. Secrets were never something she was good at keeping. But she could keep this one for now. Not for Deanna. But for Daryl. They were strangers in a strange land and she didn't want him getting into any trouble on her acount.

Rick listened closely to what Deanna told him, the expression on his face becoming more and more hostile as she continued to fill him in on her failed trade negotiation. Rowan sat on the floor at Daryl's feet, her arms wrapped around Tank. The big dog leaned into her. A few times during the discussion her eyes locked with Jesus's. She could sense his growing concern.

"We came all this way," Rick said, turning to face the man that had brought them there, "We aren't leaving with nothing."

The threat didn't need to be spoken aloud. It was obvious in Rick's tone. He was angry. Jesus didn't know Rick the way the rest of them did. If Gregory refused to negotiate with Deanna, Rick wouldn't hesitate to take what he felt they needed to survive. By force if that was what it came down to.

"Was it that bad?," Daryl whispered, leaning down and grasping Rowan under her arms. He pulled her up into his lap and hugged her against his chest. Then he shifted her so that she was sitting in the chair beside him.

"Give me some time," Jesus pleaded with Rick, "Let me talk to him." Rick reluctantly agreed. And he only did that because Deanna urged him to. Once Jesus left the room, Rick turned to Rowan.

"What did you think of him?," he asked. Rowan was silent for what seemed like forever. She hadn't expected Rick to ask her opinion. He never had before. Daryl kept a reassuring arm wrapped around her shoulders. Unlike her he didn't seem surprised that Rowan was being asked about what she thought they ought to do. Daryl had come to rely on her intuition. She was better at reading people than he was.

"I think...," Rowan started. She cleared her throat and closed her eyes, centering herself. Everyone was staring at her. It made her nervous. She reminded herself that these people were her friends and family. They were never going to laugh at her.

"I think Gregory is a coward. There's something he's not telling us. He's afraid of something. Or someone. He's wendigo. Selfish and greedy for more food than one man can eat. He lives alone in a house big enough for three families while pregnant women live outside in trailers." Rowan paused, immediately feeling guilty for saying such horrible things about a man she barely knew even if they were true. "I didn't like the way he was talking to Deanna," she added.

Deanna crossed the space between her and Rowan. She was touched by how much the man's mistreatment of her had affected Rowan. Gregory's huffing and puffing hadn't bothered Deanna much. As a congress woman, she had gotten used to dealing with men like him and their inflated egos. Rowan caught Deanna's hand and let the woman pull her to her feet. They wrapped their arms around each other, Rowan's long hair falling forward to cover Deanna's shorter frame like a blanket.

"Since we're here, we might as well make the best of it," Deanna suggested, "Would you mind if I come with you to your ultrasound?"


	41. Chapter 41

The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 41

The temperature in the room was rising, simply due to how many bodies were squeezed into such a small space. Dr. Carson seemed friendly enough. But Rowan was still nervous about the large machine he was operating. She was more than happy to let Olivia take her turn first.

The doctor smeared some suspicious looking gunk on Olivia's stomach. Then he rubbed a large wand around, touching her with it. A grainy image appeared on the screen next to them. It didn't look like much to Rowan, but Dr. Carson said it was a picture of Olivia's baby. They did get to hear the heartbeat, which made Olivia cry. Rowan liked that part. The doctor said he could tell from how fast it was beating that the baby was healthy.

"Your turn," Olivia told Rowan as she climbed down from the table. She wiped the gunk from her stomach with a hand full of tissues before she pulled her shirt back down.

"Are you sure this is safe?," Rowan asked for at least the tenth time. She wasn't sure how the machine worked. Rowan didn't want her baby exposed to anything that might harm her.

"The machine sends sound waves out. They bounce off your baby's body and the echoes are turned into an image on the screen," Dr. Carson explained.

"Won't that hurt her ears?," Rowan asked. She was edging behind Daryl in an attempt to get as far away from the exam table as possible.

"It ain't gonna hurt her," Daryl coaxed, twisting and turning in the small space to try and get ahold of Rowan. Once he had her in his arms he added, "Ya don't hafta do it if ya don't want to." Rowan knew he meant what he said. Daryl would never try to force her to do something she didn't want to do. But she could see the disappointment in his face. He really wanted to see their baby.

"Okay," Rowan said. She darted forward and climbed up onto the table before she lost her nerve. Olivia had done it and lived to tell about it. If it was important to Daryl then Rowan didn't want him to miss out because she was afraid of modern medicine.

Unlike Olivia, Rowan was wearing a dress instead of a shirt and pants. She hiked it up to give the doctor access to her stomach, revealing her legs and a very skimpy pair of black panties in the process. As soon as she let her legs relax against the table Olivia started laughing. On the inside of Rowan's pale thighs there was not just one or two, but three huge purple hickeys.

After Rowan leaned up and peered between her legs to see what the laughter was about she flopped back down on the table, her body shaking with laughter of her own. Daryl's face was so flushed that even his ears were turning red. She reached over and gasped his hand, pulling him forward until he was sitting on the exam table next to her.

Deanna took a small step forward, stopping to hesitate near the foot of the exam table. She cared about Rowan like a daughter and wanted to be included in the ultrasound but she also didn't want to intrude. Rowan lifted her hand and gestured for Deanna to come closer. Once she was next to the table Rowan gripped her hand. The way she was squeezing, it was more like she was preparing to give birth instead of only to be gently touched with an ultrasound wand.

"I had an ultrasound done when I was pregnant with Spencer," Deanna whispered. Rowan nodded and loosened her grip on the woman's hand. But it was obvious that she was still nervous. When Dr. Carson squirted the cold jelly on her belly Rowan shrieked like she was about to be axe murdered. If Daryl and Deanna weren't both holding onto her, Deanna was certain she would have fled from the room. Outside the door Tank let out a low growl. Then he started barking and scratching at the door.

"Tank!," Daryl hollered, "Lay down!" The large dog barked a few more times, making sure to let everyone know that he was angry and upset about being separated from Rowan. But at least he stopped trying to break the door down.

Dr. Carson placed the ultrasound wand on Rowan's belly, trying not to laugh at the way she responded to his gentle examination. Most women looked forward to having an ultrasound. Some were nervous about what the test might show, especially if genetic abnormalities ran in their families. But he had never seen one so frightened before. It was like Rowan had fallen out of another dimension. Or had suddenly appeared from the past, sometime before modern technology existed. It made him curious about what her life had been like before the turn and how she came to meet the group of people she was now a part of.

"Look at the screen," Dr. Carson suggested since Rowan had her eyes squeezed shut, "There's your baby!"

Rowan opened one eye at a time, turning her head towards the black and green image on the screen. Since she hadn't been able to see much during Olivia's turn her expectations were low. But there on the screen was a clear image of a baby. She could see the face and the hands, even the little fingers were wiggling.

"I can see her!," Rowan exclaimed. Deanna laughed and Daryl chewed at the side of his thumb in an obvious attempt to control his emotions. "What color hair does she have?," Rowan asked.

"I can't tell that," Dr. Carson explained. Now that Rowan seemed more relaxed and had stopped acting like she was being put through some horrible method of torture, he started moving the wand around and pointing out the different parts of the baby. He showed them the heart and the spine and the feet.

"Would you like to know the sex?," he asked. Rowan shrugged. She already knew she was having a girl. So having this confirmed by a doctor seemed harmless enough. Daryl nodded his head so Dr. Carson started moving the wand around, changing the angle of it so he could get a look at the private parts of the child.

"Congratulations," he sang out, "It's a boy!" The joyful announcement proved to be too much for the expectant father. Daryl turned his back on them and wiped his face up with his shirt. Rowan considered telling the doctor that his machine was broken but instead she just smiled. Dr. Carson pressed a few more buttons on his machine before he switched it off and presented Rowan with a small black and white picture of her baby's face and hands.

Rowan handed the picture to Daryl, who had recovered enough that he was able to face her again. He helped her wipe the jelly from her stomach so she could pull her dress back down before he pulled her into a tight embrace. She could feel all the strong emotions that seeing their baby had stirred up inside of him. His love for her and their unborn child was beautiful. It made Rowan feel like she was wrapped up in a bubble of pure white light. She tilted her head until her lips found his, not caring that she was kissing him passionately in front of a room full of people. Outside the door, Tank couldn't stand being separated from them any longer. The dog let out a mournful howl that made Rowan laugh through the happy tears in her eyes.

TWD

Daryl had taken possession of the small black and white photo. Rowan could only laugh at how excited everyone was to look at the small grainy image. It seemed a little silly to her. It would only be a few more months and they would all be free to look at her baby anytime they wanted to.

Rick and Abraham were crowded in on either side of Daryl, both of the men trying to get a good look at the picture at the same time. Rick got very excited when he found out that Daryl was expecting a son. He expressed his hopes about his son and Daryl's growing up together and being friends, which was one of the sweetest things Rowan had heard in a long time. She hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed when her daughter was born and they found out that the Dr. Carson had been wrong about the baby's gender.

The majority of the farming that took place in Hilltop was being done outside the tall walls of the community. But people had their personal gardens growing in large raised beds near the FEMA trailers where they lived. Rowan wandered over near one where several large tomatoes were growing on a repurposed box spring frame that was being used as a trellis. The plants weren't bearing much fruit considering their size. Rowan guessed the reason for this was that the seeds used to grow them had been gathered from a hybrid plant the year before. Back in Alexandria they had a least ten different types of heirloom tomatoes that Rowan would been happy to share enough cuttings from to get these people started growing better fruit. She found herself getting frustrated that the trade negotiations with Gregory had gone so poorly.

The clink of glass on glass nearby caught Rowan's attention. Two young girls were playing marbles in a small patch of even dirt. Rowan signalled Tank to stay close to her so that he wouldn't frighten the children.

"That's a big dog," said the older of the two girls. The younger of the two girls looked scared so Rowan stopped and signaled for Tank to sit. She guessed what the older girl's next question might be before she asked it.

"Can I pet your dog?"

Rowan nodded and crouched down next to Tank, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him from charging the children. Tank loved all the children in Alexandria. He only wanted to sniff and lick these new girls but Rowan knew he might get too exited and knock one of both of them down. His long thick tail wagged back and forth, stirring up a small cloud of dirt behind him.

The girl approached slowly, dragging her younger friend behind her. She ran her hand down over Tank's head, laughing when he tried to lick her. Rowan showed the girls how he liked to be pet. Then she pulled out a small drawstring pouch from inside her shoulder bag. She could use almost anything for ammunition in her slingshot. Small nuts and bolts, rocks, even stale acorns worked. But the more symmetrical her ammunition was the better her aim was. Recently, she had taken to using marbles. They were easy to find. No one else really had much use for them. Aaron had brought her back a whole crate of them that he had swiped from a hobby shop on one of his runs.

Rowan dumped half the contents of the bag into her open palm. Then the trading began. Pretty marbles didn't fly any straighter than the plain ones. So Rowan gave the nicer looking ones to the girls and took a few of the more common designed marbles off their hands. It wasn't the type of trading that she had come to do but Rowan felt like she had to start somewhere. Even if Gregory wasn't willing to talk trade, it was possible some of his people would have a different perspective. Maybe if they were lucky they could bypass him completely.

To think of the devil was to draw him out into the light. Rowan stood up and brushed the dirt off her red dress. Gregory was walking down from his big fancy house. He stopped and began to speak to Deanna. Maybe he felt bad for the way he behaved earlier and was coming to apologize but Rowan doubted it. He still had his chest puffed out like a peacock. Deanna's aura was full of little red lightning bolts. Red was an unusual color for the woman. Deanna was a grounded person who was always slow to get angry about anything. She was most often surrounded in soft pastel shades of violet and teal. Her color meant Gregory was pissing her off. That scared Rowan a little. If Deanna got angry enough she would let Rick take over. And he was even more pissed off than she was.

Rowan concentrated on Gregory. She just wanted to get a better feel for him. People were always easier to deal with if you knew how their minds worked. But Rowan only saw the same thing she had seen in his office. He was nothing but a greedy little coward. Then suddenly his aura was gone. Rowan blinked, hoping that she had just lost her concentration. Her pregnancy had thrown off her internal balance. Lately she had been seeing people's auras when she didn't want to and when she did want to she had been having a harder time concentrating. But even after she shook her arms out and refocused on the man, there was still no light surrounding him.

Rowan started rushing towards Deanna, the red fringe on her dress swinging and bouncing with her rapid movements. If something was about to happen to Gregory, Rowan wanted to get Deanna away from him.

A group of people had just been let in through the tall guarded gate of the community. One of them, a tall man with a beard, was approaching Gregory. The situation seemed harmless enough. Gregory obviously knew the man and didn't seem afraid of him. But Gregory could't see what Rowan saw. The man's aura was on fire with anger and fear. His hand was on the hilt of his knife. Rowan wasn't going to get close enough to them in time to stop the man.

"Tank," Rowan commanded, "Get him!" She only had to point at the man. Tank surged past her as the man was pulling his knife out. He had his hand on Gregory's shoulder, saying something about delivering a message. Deanna saw Tank charging in her general direction. She wasn't afraid of the big dog but she knew the animal well enough to know when it was time to get out of his way.

The man got one good shot in. He stabbed Gregory in the side of his stomach. Blood immediately began to pour from the wound. Deanna screamed. And then the man was on the ground. Tank had his paws on the man's chest, snarling and barking menacingly into his face. Rowan arrived at his side a moment later. She was about to call the large dog off, mostly because the man still had a knife in his hand and she didn't want Tank to be hurt. But before she had the chance another man grabbed her hard by the arm.

"Get that fucking dog offa him!," the man screamed into her face. Rowan yanked and twisted, trying to escape the man's grip. The sleeve of her dress ripped but the man refused to let her go. She screamed. The sound seemed to last forever.

Daryl wasn't sure what had happened. One second he was tucking the picture of his unborn son away in his pocket and thinking about checking to see how functional the blacksmith area was. He had a few knives that he wanted sharpened properly. The next thing he heard was Rowan screaming. A man had his hands on her. He was hurting her. Everything Daryl could see took on a strange red tinge. He charged the man but Tank got there first. The dog chomped dog hard on the man's leg. The man cried out in pain and released Rowan. She fell backwards to the ground, landing hard on the side of her hip. The man pulled a knife and took a swipe at Tank. He caught the corner of the big dog's ear.

Before the man could take another swing Daryl had his hands on him. He grabbed for the man's arm first. The arm that was holding the knife. Daryl snapped the man's arm like a twig. Then he tossed him to the ground and started kicking him. Tank joined in the attack. He grabbed the man's pant leg and shook him like a ragdoll until his pants ripped apart. Daryl had always had a temper but he had learned to keep it in check. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so enraged. He might have kicked the man to death if Eugene hadn't stepped in. The large man simply bear hugged Daryl and started dragging him backwards. The entire time he was chanting the words please don't hit me please don't hit me please don't hit me.

Rowan hit the ground so hard that her vision clouded with little black spots. Everything around her felt like it was happening in slow motion. The man that Tank had been holding down got up and tried to go after Gregory again. He was screaming something about his brother. Rick tackled him and the two of them started fighting. Rick was a good fighter but the other man was much larger. He got on top of Rick and threatened him with a knife to his throat.

It felt like everyone around her was yelling at the same time. Rowan's hip and knee were throbbing. Time slowed down and she felt like she could feel every horrible thing that was happening around her inside her head at the same time. Then suddenly a gunshot rang out. The head of the man that was on top of Rick exploded. Blood sprayed everywhere. It soaked Rick and the ground around him. Rowan turned expecting to see Abraham or one of the other men on the other side of the gunshot. Instead she saw Deanna. The woman was standing with her feet apart, holding the small handgun she favored in both her hands. Hands that were now shaking.


End file.
